


down time

by hey_you_with_the_face



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Blind Dates, Blogger Gilda, Blow Jobs, Businessman Dean, Concerned Castiel, Dom Castiel, Dom Charlie, Gentle Dom Castiel, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Mild Pet Play, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roleplay, Sex Shop Owner Charlie, Spanking, Stressed Dean, Sub Dean, Yoga, Yoga Instructor Castiel (Supernatural), Zachariah is a dick, light punishment, slight kink discussion, sub Gilda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:17:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 85,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/pseuds/hey_you_with_the_face
Summary: It’s been said that Dean Winchester is a bit uptight but in his opinion being focused on producing quality work is nothing to be ashamed of. He would grudgingly admit he tends to get too worried about his work and schedule and that it’s beginning to wear him down. In a fit of work induced exhaustion, he decides to indulge in a deeply buried desire of his…





	1. It Started With A Blog

**Author's Note:**

> Okay folks, here it is...the yoga teacher/businessman AU that I started almost a year ago.
> 
> When I started writing this, I was going to wait until I was completely and utterly done with it before posting but...I got impatient and this fic got long. I currently have 10 and 1/2 chapters written for this and am about a third of the way through my outline. 
> 
> That being said, this will be the first to two fics that I will be posting as works in progress that will (at least for a while) be on a schedule. I'm hoping that by actually putting this out there for people to read, I'll be more motivated to work on it because I _really_ love this story and I want to finish it.
> 
> This fic will be updated every Wednesday.

“Mr. Winchester, I’m going to leave now. Do you need anything else before I leave?”

Dean Winchester looked up from the massive pile of papers on his desk, blinking slightly to clear the numbers dancing in front of his eyes, to see his personal assistant standing at his office door, a hand on the door jamb.

Was it really that late already? He could have sworn that he’d just eaten lunch an hour or two ago but it was obvious that he was mistaken. It was completely dark outside his office windows and then there suddenly obvious silence emanating from the room behind his assistant, an area usually teeming with people. His brain shuffled through the memories of the day, trying to figure out how so much time had passed without his noticing.

Oh wait, that was it; he’d had a very late lunch due to a meeting with the sales department that day. That’s why it didn’t really feel as late as it was despite the fact that it was obviously past five in the evening.

“Oh. No, I’m fine Sarah,” Dean replied quickly, noticing his assistant’s expectant expression and remembering she had asked him a question. He smiled at her, “You have a nice evening, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Monday,” Sarah said, causing Dean to look up from his papers again. “You’ll see me Monday,” she continued slowly, most likely in response to her boss’ noise of befuddlement. 

He wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Are you taking vacation? I thought you said you wouldn’t be taking any vacation for another month or so.”

This response caused Sarah to sigh as she visibly restrained herself from rolling her eyes. She walked briskly over towards Dean’s desk and leaned over, grabbing the computer mouse; the pretty brunette, neck craned to look at the computer monitor, maneuvered the cursor over to the corner of the monitor to bring up the desktop calendar.

Dean’s calendar was color coded and scheduled within an inch of its life, as per usual, so at first he had not a clue what his assistant was trying indicate to him with her raised eyebrow and pointed stare that looked first at him then the computer again. He looked at the calendar more closely and then it hit him.

“Oh, is it Friday already?” he asked, genuinely surprised. 

Sarah leveled a look at him that somehow mixed disbelief with resignation. All this apparently being too much, she did roll her eyes at him this time before replying tiredly, “Yes, Mr. Winchester. It is indeed Friday.”

The director of marketing for Sandover Industries leaned back in his plush office chair and looked up at the ceiling. How in the hell did he lose track of the day of the week? Sure his week had been extremely busy, well the last four weeks have been busy really, but he could have sworn it was Wednesday. 

Carefully not mentioning this fact to Sarah, who would probably try to commit him if she knew he was actually off by two days, Dean amended his ‘see you tomorrow’ to a ‘have a nice weekend’ and shooed her out the door. His assistant didn’t need much encouragement but she did make him promise that he wouldn’t stay much later which he agreed to, mainly to get out of this embarrassing situation, and soon she was gathering her bag and coat and walking out of the office.

From the sounds of things, Dean was finally alone; the only sounds in the office were his computer whirring slightly and his own breathing. Instead of returning to the spreadsheet that was currently open on his monitor like he’d been planning to, he leaned back in his chair while staring at his day planner; there were brightly colored tabs stuck all over the pages, each one practically screaming that there were things that needed to be done right now.

Normally his busy schedule wouldn’t bother him, it was his job to get these matters taken care of; it was what the company paid him for after all. But something about the fact that he was so preoccupied by his work that he essentially lost two days of the week was a bit frightening to him.

Maybe he needed a vacation. 

He could go home and visit his family, the last time he’d been back was for Thanksgiving and not even the latest one. There had been a big meeting that had needed to be taken care of that Wednesday so Dean hadn’t been able to drive back to South Dakota and hell would freeze over before he would get on a plane, let alone get on a plane during a busy holiday season. Since then work had been so chaotic he’d had to skip out on the various holidays and events that would have led him home so a trip to Sioux Falls was definitely in order.

Smiling at the idea of getting out of the office and seeing his family, Dean began typing up an email to his boss with a request to dip into his almost untouched vacation and personal time. His mind whirred as he planned; he could take a couple weeks to unwind, drive home and surprise his parents with a visit. After an eternity of quick phone calls to check in they would be---

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Startled out of his thoughts by his desk phone ringing, Dean looked at the device and read ‘Z. Adler’ on the caller ID.

His boss was calling.

He scrambled to pick up the receiver before it stopped ringing and held it tentatively to his ear.

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered perfunctorily, his back automatically straightening as though his boss were in the room to see his sub-par posture. Usually he would be dreading a call this late in the evening but this would be the perfect opportunity to discuss his overdue vacation and save himself and Mr. Adler the trouble of an email. “I was actually just about to send---”

“Winchester!” Mr. Adler, interrupted, completely ignoring the fact that his subordinate was speaking. “How would you feel about taking on the Stevenson account?”

Well that was unexpected.

“The Stevenson account, sir?” Dean asked hesitantly, making sure he’d heard right. 

The Stevenson account was one of the biggest accounts in the company, so big that his boss had always insisted on being the one to handle it despite the large amount of work that was involved. Having this account under his belt would make Dean a very important asset to the company. If he’d been offered the account a year ago he wouldn’t have hesitated to take it, now however…

Dean looked tiredly at the piles of paper on his desk and the unfinished report on his computer, his shoulders slumped.

“That is a very generous offer, sir but with my other accounts--” he attempted to explain delicately only to be cut off again.

“Oh your other accounts are peanuts compared to this. Surely an industrious young man such as yourself can handle one more account,” Mr. Adler said, his voice practically oozing out of the receiver before his tone changed to indicate forced nonchalance, “You know, I would think that someone who was interested in advancing in the company would want to make sure he was part of the integral accounts.”

Dean ran a hand over his face tiredly. Damn it to hell.

“Of course, sir. I would love the opportunity to handle such an important account,” Dean said hurriedly, “But I’m just worried I won’t be able to give it the time that’s required.” He took a mental breath to prepare himself; this wasn’t how he wanted to broach the topic of his vacation but he figured it was now or never. “Especially since I was hoping to take some of my vacation---”

Dean winced as Mr. Adler laughed loudly, loud enough that he had to bring the phone away from his ear or suffer some sort of short term ear damage. “Oh Winchester, that’s a good one,” he chuckled, the slight mocking tone of his laugh caused a pit to form in Dean’s stomach as he realized what was going to come out of this boss’ mouth before the man began to speak again. “This is the busiest time of the year, we can’t afford to have an important guy like you out for any amount of time. Such a joker. I’ve always told upper management that you’re a funny guy.”

The confirmation of his fear was accompanied by a devastating wave of exhaustion; Dean slumped back into his chair, his chin resting on his chest. 

So much for his newly born desire to take a break.

“Well, I’ll forward the account information to you tomorrow, Winchester,” Mr. Adler continued once he’d gotten himself under control. “I’d do it tonight but my wife is about to put dinner on the table.” Dean’s stomach growled at the reminder of food. “Oh and don’t forget that those projections are due Monday, I expect them on my desk bright and early. Have a pleasant evening.”

“Have a pl---” was all Dean was able to get out before the line went dead; he sighed tiredly as he hung up the phone. He rubbed at his face again before turning back to his spreadsheet; rolling his shoulders to hopefully shake the knots out of his back.

A few more hours wouldn’t hurt.

It was well past ten before Dean stumbled into his apartment, almost knocking over the small vase on the table in his entryway in during his tired shuffling.

By some miracle he had been able to get the projections report done though it had ended up taking much longer than expected, mainly due to the fact his mind kept getting distracted by recent revelation.

His work had completely taken over his life.

He wasn’t sure when it happened but somehow he had let his preoccupation with being the perfect worker and obsession for having things exactly right force him into overdrive, a state of being that was slowly and surely draining him. His job had become some sort of energy vampire.

His thoughts ran around in ceaseless circles as he scrounged together some leftover takeout from his fridge and, after changing into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, settled on the couch. There wasn’t much on TV so he ended up stopping on a meaningless action movie but didn’t really pay attention; the only reason he had the TV on was to chase away the emptiness his apartment.

When had this become his life?

Working himself to death at a job that was, as he found himself finally admitting, boring only to come home and watch TV alone. His tendency to work hours upon hours of overtime and his inability to leave work unfinished was obviously the problem but how to fix it? Dean knew from experience that he was incapable of letting go of his work, especially when left to his own devices. How was he supposed to force himself to relax?

He finished his meager dinner and grabbed his laptop. There were a few work email in his inbox and, of course, he couldn’t resist looking at and responding to them. Even after the revelation that he was a workaholic, Dean couldn’t fight the impulse though he was able to make himself close his work email and go to his personal email.

There was an email from his mother, asking if he was going to make it to Christmas since he missed Thanksgiving again, which really twisted the newly discovered knife in his side. Dean sighed as he purposely didn’t answer that one. He sorted through the few online bill notifications and ads from Amazon for things he’d ‘might like’, resigning himself to another boring evening and wondering if he should just go to bed when he remembered something.

He hadn’t checked out his favorite blog in awhile.

Opening a private browser, Dean eagerly navigated his way to the familiar site; the dark but tasteful color scheme immediately calmed his nerves while sending a shiver of excitement down his spine.

Down Time with my Dom.

And there was a ton of new content.

This blog was Dean’s dirty little secret; he’d stumbled on it one day when he’d been surfing for porn, trying to find some of the homemade videos that he prefered since he found the professional videos were too ridiculous sometimes, and had been instantly transfixed by the posts he found.

Dean had always know that he was drawn to slightly kinky things in the bedroom; he liked being held down and told what to do and this wasn’t really something that bothered him. He’d had enough time to accept that there wasn’t anything weird about his tendencies when it came to sex. No, what really surprised him was how appealing the idea of submission outside the bedroom was to him.

The posted links to stories and other things that always seemed to catch his eye were ones where the sub was essentially the Dom’s pet; not the ones with the extra gear though, Dean had tried looking at that but the ear and paw accessory type things just didn’t appeal to him. 

That was why this particular blog was his favorite. It wasn’t all about someone being forced to walk around on their hands and knees while eating off the floor. One thing Dean knew for certain was that the humiliation factor that was present in a large portion of the blogs he’d found was not his thing; more power to anyone else who was into that particular aspect but he got his fill of that at work and he didn’t find anything alluring about it. Most of the content on this site, which was made up of a mix of carefully and tastefully done photos, usually accompanied by short description, and small journal type posts, was focused on the calm and peace that the sub felt when in that mind set.

This is what drew him in and got him hooked.

What did appeal to him was the idea that he could possibly let go of everything: his busy work schedule, his demanding boss and most importantly, his mental exhaustion, and just exist for awhile. His only job would be to lay around, be affectionate and follow a few simple orders; he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone and be Dean Winchester: Director of Marketing, he could just be Dean. The slight structure to it was one of the selling points in his mind. Dean knew from experience that if he were told to ‘just relax’ without having a set plan on how to go about it, he would spend his time trying to come up with the perfect way to relax only to worry whether he picked the right one. Just imagining what that would feel like to have someone tell him not only to let go for a while but that they would like him to do so made his shoulders loosen automatically.

Scrolling through the new posts on the website, Dean could feel a strange secondhand calm settling over him. The subject of the photos, a woman called Gilda, was lounging comfortably on a sofa while a pair of hands softly ran over the bare skin of her back; Dean imagined a pair of more masculine hands performing the same actions on his own skin and felt the muscles in his back, tight from sitting at his desk and being stressed, relax marginally.

The next post was one of the rare casual ones where Gilda answered some questions posed to her from her followers. Most of these posts were how to’s and basics on being in a D/s relationship though there were some personal questions about how exactly Gilda’s relationship with her Domme worked. 

_Anonymous: Hi Gilda! I absolutely looove your blog. :) I really find the idea of being a pet appealing but I’m afraid to ask my boyfriend about it since he might think it’s weird. How do you suggest talking about it with him?_

_DownTimewithMyDom: Thank you, it’s nice to know you’re enjoying yourself. As for your problem, I suggest you broach the topic gently, explain why this appeals to you and, as always, be honest with him. My girlfriend wasn’t really into this type of D/s dynamic when we first got together but she was willing to give it a try when I asked and look at where we are now. Let me know how things turn out and good luck! :)_

Dean really liked reading these; learning about how to engage in this type of lifestyle allowed that small part of him that wanted this type of relationship with someone a chance to fantasize about how it would play out. It got him to thinking about what it would be like to not only have someone to come home to but someone who would help him unwind from the stresses of work but he knew that this wasn’t possible. Considering the way he worked and the nonexistent status of his social life, Dean knew he had to just learn to live with the way things were for now.

He scrolled through the rest of the blog’s new content, getting more and more drowsy; a state that did not do his already half depressed mind any favors. His chest got a bit tight as he looked at photos of the blogger being relaxed and content as she was showered with affection, at journal posts detailing the blogger and her Domme going to the zoo or going out to dinner and with each post he felt worse. Dean felt the emptiness of his darkened apartment sharply as he stared at the glowing screen of his laptop.

Why couldn’t he have that?

Maybe it was the feeling of being crushed by loneliness, maybe it was his borderline disgust at the sorry state of his life or maybe it was the side effects of several months’ worth of too much work and not enough sleep that caused Dean to do what he did next but whatever force it was, Dean would later conclude only madness would have compelled him to click on the ‘ask a question’ link and begin typing.


	2. Then An Email Appeared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of you who've shown interest in this story. I'm really excited to share this with you all after all this time working on it :)

The next morning found Dean sleeping awkwardly on his sofa, the sun from his windows shining directly in his eyes. The bright light dragged him from his slumber and immediately scorched his retinas, sending a sharp bolt of pain to his head and forcing him to slap a hand to his face in order to block out the offending sensation.

God, it was like having a hangover without the fun of being drunk first.

After debating whether it was a wise move for several minutes, Dean decided that staying on the couch would do neither him nor his back any favors and that, if he was able to drag himself to his bed, he might be able to fall back to sleep for a while longer. He mentally prepared himself for the dreaded sunlight and slowly opened his eyes behind the protective shield of his hand before forcing himself upright. He looked at the coffee table and was not surprised to see that he’d fallen asleep with his laptop on again and the warning that his battery was about to fail was flashing urgently at him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at his own carelessness and stood up to walk to his room, taking his laptop with him and snagging the charger off the table as he went. Dean wandered into his bedroom and made quick work of plugging in his computer to charge; he was doing his usual check to make certain he hadn’t lost any work when he noticed he had a new personal email. At first his stomach dropped thinking that his mother had sent another email about Christmas but this dread turned to confusion as he saw who the email was from.

_moonqueen42@gmail.com_

The bleary eyed man looked at the email address, his brows knit in confusion as he mentally scoured his memory for any reference to whoever might have sent him an email. He didn’t talk to anyone from college or high school, he’d obviously would recognize one of his family members and he would never give out his personal email to people from work. Hoping to gain more insight he read the subject line.

_In regards to your question last night_

Well that was pretty vague and unhelpful. It had to be a scam of some sort; one of those emails where if you click it, a computer virus would fry your hard drive. Not one to risk his precious laptop, Dean checked the box next to the mysterious email and was mere moments away from selecting ‘delete’ when a memory forced its way out of the corners of his mind.

A memory of him, typing determinedly on his computer and sending a pathetic semi-anonymous message to the person at the Down Time blog.

Dean sat down heavily on his bed as his legs gave out and his hands rose up to tangle in his messy hair, his heart pounded painfully in his chest.

What had he done?

He’d sent a message, detailing his personal email, to the person who ran a _sex blog_ on the internet. A message that actually stated that he wanted to be dominated and be treated like a someone’s pet. What if someone from work found out? He might be up for promotion some day and they’ll search his personal history for character flaws; the IT department will find that email and put it into a report that Dean Winchester is a sexual deviant and recommend that he be fired on moral grounds. He’ll end up living in a crappy apartment working at a retail store since obviously his employer would warn any of his potential employers that they’re possibly hiring a pervert.

He needed to know how much he revealed. Bracing himself for the worse, Dean opened the email.

_Hi Dean,_

_Thank you for the message. I decided to answer this via email since it seemed like you had several questions about the lifestyle and it would be easier to answer them like this._

_First of all, I can tell you don’t feel very comfortable discussing your kinks at the moment and that is okay; sometimes it takes a little while to feel at ease talking about this but that will come with time._

_Now about your message, getting involved in the lifestyle can be done but I would suggest you take it slow at first, especially considering that you’re worried about your employers finding out your preferences. There is also the safety factor to take into account. Keeping this all in mind, I would like to suggest meeting some people who are in the lifestyle and that are trustworthy._

_Obviously you have no reason to trust a stranger’s judgement so, since you mentioned that you live locally, I can give you the address of an adult store; the owner is into BDSM and has helped a lot of people discover what they liked. It’s a very discreet place so I think you will feel comfortable visiting if you decide to go._

_If you do decide to go further, I’d love to hear about it._

_Best of Luck,_

_~G~_

Dean read the message several times, taking note of the address at the bottom of the message. It was obviously located downtown and, if he was reading his mental map correctly, was in a surprisingly nice part of town considering that the store apparently sold sex toys and porn and was owned by some sort of kinky sex guru. The store wasn’t actually that far from work, he could easily stop by after work someday; not that he would of course, that would be insane but maybe on a weekend…

“No,” he chastised himself, shaking his head slightly to clear it. “There’s no way I’m even considering this.” Last night was a huge mistake that will hopefully never ever ever see the light of day. There was absolutely nothing to be gained by risking his career by getting in touch with this person.

That being decided, he exited the browser and closed his laptop with a final snap. He had some sleep to catch up on and a few work emails to see to.

 

“Good Morning, Mr. Winchester,” Sarah said, placing a stack of intercompany mail on his desk. “Mr. Adler called, he said he’d be stopping by sometime after lunch to discuss the Stevenson account and go over the reports you submitted this morning.”

It took Dean a few seconds to absorb this information as he sat there blinking up at his assistant owlishly, most likely since he didn’t expect her to be in already. According to the clock above his office door, it was only---

10 o’clock.

He really ought to see a doctor about this whole time jump thing because there is no way that three hours had already passed.

After his internet disaster on Friday night, Dean had spent the rest of the weekend at home going from tidying his house, going to the grocery store to stock his embarrassingly empty fridge and catching up on some work emails. Things had been going as usual for a weekend until he realized on Sunday evening that he had left a crucial data sheet at the office which meant that he couldn’t finish his prep work on the Stevenson account. So he’d come into work early this morning and had been working on it, between putting out the usual fires of course, for the past few hours. 

A good thing too apparently. He hadn’t expected Adler to be touching base with him so soon on this, from past experience he knew that the other man had a habit of letting an issue rest for a couple days before addressing it. Dean looked at the spreadsheet currently sitting open on his second computer monitor; it was only a few lines of data from being complete. 

“That sounds great,” he assured Sarah. He took the papers and started sorting them, “How was your weekend?”

Sarah spent a few minutes chatting with him about her weekend; it helped in a strange way to know that other people were having lives, almost as if giving him some sort of hope that someday he would have that. Eventually the conversation ended, they both got back to work and Dean slipped seamlessly back into the numbers and projections in front of him.

Way too soon, or at least it felt that way to Dean, there was a polite knock on his door followed by Sarah’s voice announcing that Mr. Adler was waiting. He thanked her and told her to send him in; his hands twitched nervously over his papers and his stomach fluttered with uncomfortable nerves as he opened the files he would need, luckily he hadn’t found time for lunch so at least he didn’t have to worry about feeling nervous enough to be sick.

“Winchester!” Adler boomed as he strolled through the door. “Time to stop piddling around with busy work and show me what you’ve gotten done.” There was a strained pause before Adler chuckled. “Oh, I’m just kidding; I know you work so hard.” The words were said with a jovial air but Dean still felt a surge of anger tinged with frustration at the joking tone of the compliment.

That ‘joke’ was old the first time the tall balding man had said it to him and it was getting more and more ancient every time he had to hear it.

“Hello Mr. Adler,” Dean replied with what he thought of as his ‘work smile’. He motioned at one of the plush chairs in front of his desk. “Please sit, I’ve got the some new projections prepared for the Stevenson account that I think you’ll like…”

From there, in order to avoid any more of Adler’s attempts at comedy, Dean launched into a carefully prepared presentation into the current standing of the account his boss had unceremoniously dropped in his lap and the plans he had to improve their relationship with the other company. Thankfully his boss remained mostly silent for the presentation, only speaking to ask for clarification on a point or to express understanding. Dean was actually thinking that things were going well until Adler spoke after he was done talking.

“Well I have to say, I found that little demonstration very informative,” the other man said, clapping his hands and leaning back into his chair, “But I have to ask, is that all?”

Dean could only blink stupidly, mouth slightly open.

_Is that all?_

He had taken multiple spreadsheets full of half processed, but mostly raw, data and turned that into a condensed but highly informative spreadsheet that could be used for his unplanned presentation, a spreadsheet that he had very clearly stated several times in said presentation was only a basic skeleton for what he had planned for this account. He’d even said that he would need more time to come up with a fully completed model. All in the space of a few days.

And Alder wanted more.

“Well, for the time being, yes,” Dean said hesitantly, toying with the pen he had been using to point out important figures on the charts to his boss. “I haven’t had much time to look over the numbers at the moment but I’m sure---”

“Not enough time?” Adler scoffed, interrupting Dean’s explanation of his apparently inadequate work. The other man looked at him like he was pulling his leg. “I sent you those numbers almost four days ago, it really takes four days to read through the data I sent you? They were practically put together for you.”

“Well, technically, I’ve only had about one working day to--”

“Oh, now didn’t we have this discussion already Winchester?” Adler interrupted again, he stood up so he was looming over Dean’s desk and leaned down to plant both of his meaty hands on his papers. His boss’ small weaselly eyes looked into his own and he could see the patronization in them; it made him feel slightly sick. “If you want to get anywhere in this company, you have to want it, really want it, and that means putting in a few extra hours here and there. I mean would it have really hurt to put just a little extra effort into your work, to have a bit of pride in it, even if it meant giving up a little bit of free time?”

This had to be some sort of new joke. He had been working ten hour days, minimum, as well as working on a few things during his nights and weekends and his boss was chastising him for not working enough? 

_But maybe he’s right_ a small voice said quietly, _what’s a few more hours in exchange for a promotion. Someday it’ll all be worth it once we’re at the top._

Resisting the urge to sigh and slump in defeat, Dean fixed a small smile on his face. “I suppose you’re right, sir. I could do a bit more.”

“Atta boy,” his boss said, clapping Dean roughly on the shoulder. “I knew you were a reasonable one.” The other man straightened, a wide grin on his face. “I expect great things out of you Winchester. Now, I’ve got to run; I’m meeting the CFO today for a big meeting…” His voice trailed off and he wriggled his eyebrows while he mimed swinging a golf club; Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from scowling. “Can’t be late for that. Keep up the good work.”

And with that trite farewell and another smug smirk, his boss left; leaving Dean in the now familiar position of wondering just when had this become his life but only for a few minutes.

It was all he had to spare before he needed to get back to work.

Several hours came and went, his phone rang numerous times and Sarah had long since bid him goodnight before Dean stopped working for the night. He saved his files to his laptop and gathered his things before shuffling zombie-like to his car, bidding his usual goodnight to the cleaning personnel, Margaret and David, and to Marcus the night guard; he rested his head on the wheel of his car once he was inside.

This was it, this had to be what rock bottom felt like.

His head ached, matching well with the throbbing behind his eyes which coincidentally were having a hard time staying open, his back was painfully tight from sitting at his desk all day, even with the ‘ergonomical design’ and even his wrists and fingers were sore from typing.

And it was only Monday.

Dean looked over at the stack of files poking out of his laptop bag. Those needed to be done tonight if he was going to keep to the schedule for himself but he wasn’t even sure if he would be able to make the drive home without putting himself in a ditch, or worse, injuring someone else. Still neglecting to start the car, he sat there, staring into the dark as his thoughts swirled in a strange mix of arguments for and against his current situation in life; the various voices of his mind argued back and forth, each getting louder and louder until the loudest of them broke through the haze.

Something _had_ to change. He was going to give himself an ulcer or die of a heart attack if things stayed as they were.

He turned the key, bringing his car to life, decision made and spent the rest of the drive home mentally running over his schedule, looking for an empty space.

Dean had to visit a sex shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, Dean's going to a sex shop!! Also, in case anyone missed the tag, Zachariah is a major dick.


	3. Followed By A Sex Shop Visit

Charline’s was indeed a tasteful looking store. If Dean wasn’t already aware that it was a sex store and hadn’t been actively looking for the address, he would have walked right by it.

It was a brick building that had one large window that had been most likely used for displays in the past but were now covered by sheer hangings so that a person would have to stand with their nose to the glass in order to make out what was inside, a fact that came in handy considering what was on display on the shelves. There was a sign on the door that said “Charline’s” in a delicate script and detailed the store hours. All in all it was a very average looking store, if a bit mysterious.

There was also a discreet but firm sign stating that patrons must be 18 or older to come inside.

Dean took a steadying breath and, after a quick covert peek to the sides to check for anyone watching him, stepped across the threshold. 

As the outside had suggested, the store was clean and orderly but the most surprising aspect of Charline’s was that it was strangely comfortable. Dean may not frequent sex shops very often but the few he had been in seemed to either be dark and dim with a heavy aura of shame, as if the owners were trying to condemn their patrons for being in the place, or the stores were brightly lit and bare, giving off a sense of extreme awkwardness and exposure.

Instead of either uncomfortably bright or half-lit fluorescent bulbs, the store was lit with softer light sources which gave it an oddly cozy air that went well with the dark wood shelves and furniture. The only way Dean felt he could describe the place was library-like. Everything was clean and orderly and the all of these factors actually made him feel less anxious about being in such a store despite the fact that there were dildos, vibrators and other various supplies on prominent display.

He was pretending to look at a display for his and her lubricant packs, trying to come up with a game plan on how to approach the sales person at the counter about talking to the owner when suddenly there was a presence by his shoulder.

“Hey there, welcome to Charline’s,” a chipper red-head said, giving him a bright smile, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

A bit shocked at how cheerful and outgoing the woman was, it took Dean a minute to recover. “Oh, um, yes, I just found out this place was here the other day,” he stammered, his face turning pink, “I thought I might, uh, check it out.”

The woman grinned and nodded. “That’s great, it’s always nice to know we’re bringing in new customers,” she said. She stuck out her hand in greeting which Dean took out of reflex; he was in business after all. “I’m Charlie, I own this joint so if you have any questions or need anything, you just let me know and I’ll sort it out for you.”

Wait, this was the person Gilda from the blog wanted him to meet?

Dean wasn’t sure what he expected of the owner of a adult store but a vibrant and talkative woman wearing a Captain America shirt was not it. 

“Wait, you own this place, seriously?” he asked, wanting to make sure he heard what he thought he heard but regretted it right away. One of his hands shot up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break. “Oh, I’m so sorry, that was rude of me.”

Charlie chuckled and crossed her arms before leaning a hip against a shelf full of books on spicing up the bedroom and multiple versions of the Kama Sutra. “Don’t worry, I get that a lot,” she replied in a tone that said she’d gotten used to people’s shock. “I blame the whole ‘sex shops are creepy and therefore can only be owned by creepy people’ idea that most of society subscribes to. That’s actually why I opened this place, I wanted to run a shop that everyday people wouldn’t feel ashamed to walk into.”

“That’s a pretty cool concept,” Dean mused, the businessman in him appreciating the new take on a store of this type. It didn’t hurt that by talking business she was unintentionally putting him at ease. If there was one thing he felt comfortable with, it was talking business. “I wouldn’t usually be in a place like this but when I saw the outside, I was intrigued. How did you settle on a location?”

And that was how Dean Winchester, director of Marketing for multi-billion dollar corporation, ended up in an hour long conversation about the business nuts and bolts of opening a shop with a sex store owner.

They ended up wandering back to the register area eventually so that Charlie could sit at the counter after pulling up a spare stool for Dean. If he had taken the time to think about it, the blonde man would have realized how strange it was to be sitting there discussing decorating choices and costing margins while be surrounded by strap-on harnesses and fleshlights but in all honesty, it was the most relaxing hour of his life. Not to mention the fact that Charlie was engaging, funny and completely at ease with talking to a complete stranger, so much so that Dean found her personality rubbing off on him a bit.

“Well, now that I’ve eaten up huge chunk of your time, I probably should actually help you with what you came here for,” Charlie said when they reached a natural stopping point in the conversation, reminding Dean that there was an actual reason for his visit. “So what can I do for a business savvy man such as yourself?”

Biting his lip, Dean thought about how he wanted to do this. He’d just spent an hour talking to Charlie and now he needed to ask the woman for help with getting into BDSM and that a stranger on the internet said she could help him. Was there even a way to do that without being awkward? True, all the facts pointed to Charlie rolling with the situation like everything else and the fact that Gilda’s email did say that Charlie had done this sort of thing before made sense now that he’d talked to her for a bit but it was taking a bit of thought to get the words out. 

“Well, this is going to sound a bit weird…” Dean started to say, feeling his face start to heat up again but surprisingly Charlie interrupted him.

“Dean, first things first, I run a sex shop; I highly doubt whatever you’re into or looking for is that strange,” she stated matter of factly, making sure to look him in the eye, “Second, we just spent the last hour talking about how my store is trying to show that buying toys and things is perfectly normal, why would you think I’d shame you for anything?”

_She does have a point_ one corner of his mind supplied unhelpfully. Dean rubbed at his neck again distractedly, trying to formulate the words but in the end he figured the direct route would be less painful for them both. He took a fortifying breath and attempted to channel the confidence he’d gained over years of business meetings and video conferences.

“Okay then here it goes,” he said, putting his hands on the table and meeting Charlie’s eyes, “I was told by a woman who has a blog on the internet that you help people who want to learn about BDSM.” He was talking much faster than he’d planned by the end and was slightly out of breath but he still counted the fact that he didn’t turn tail and run as a win.

At first the shop owner just looked at him, eyebrows furrowed as if she were digging through her mind for some information but Dean’s mind was already jumping to conclusions; more specifically, the conclusion that Charlie was going to tell him to get the fuck out of her store and never come back. He was in the process of standing up so that he could apologize and run out of the store with as much dignity he could manage when Charlie slapped the counter loudly, startling Dean out of his thoughts, and pointed at him.

“Oh! You’re that guy that Gilda told me about!” she exclaimed with a smile. When Dean could only look at her in confusion and surprise, she continued, “Gilly told me that she was sending a newbie my way the other day, I guess I just didn’t expect you to get the nerve to show up so quickly, if at all. She said you were a bit hesitant and skittish during you guys’ chat.”

“So you don’t think I’m some creepy weirdo from the internet and you don’t want to blind me with pepper spray or something?” Dean asked hesitantly, unsure if this was actually happening. Because seriously, what were the odds that the person he is supposed to meet is so cool and interesting?

“Of course not,” Charlie scoffed as if this were the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Dean looked at her with skepticism; the shop owner seemed to think again for a minute before her face lit up and she tapped the counter. “Will it make you more willing to trust me if I told you I am the Domme portion of ‘Down Time with my Dom’?”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he pointed at the woman behind the counter, blurting out, “You’re Gilda’s Domme!?”

Charlie nodded, a soft smile on her face. “Well more like, I’m Gilda’s girlfriend then her Domme since we’re partners first but yeah, that’s me. The blogging is more her thing than mine but I don’t mind being in it sometimes,” she explained as Dean sat back down on the stool. “She told me about your conversation from the other night and she thought it might help you to talk to a person, face to face.”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t really remember much of that conversation,” Dean admitted sheepishly, “But it wasn’t because I was drunk or anything,” he continued quickly at the raised eyebrow Charlie sent his way. “I’ve been working a lot lately and that day had been really long so I guess I was too tired to be having an important conversation.” He tried to laugh off his exhaustion induced inability to remember things but apparently Charlie wasn’t having it.

“I’m going to level with you Dean,” she said kindly but firmly, folding her hands on the counter and meeting his gaze. Her eyes held a surprising amount of concern considering he had literally only know her for a little over an hour and it made Dean shift uncomfortably in his seat; not because she was a complete stranger but because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone look at him like that. “From what you told Gilda the other night, you work way too much.”

“Well, it’s not---” Dean began to protest but was swiftly cut off.

“Ah ah ah,” she continued, making a shushing motion with her hand and causing Dean’s mouth to shut with a click. “Give me a minute. Even if I didn’t already know that you work sixty hours a week...minimum,” The blonde man found himself grimacing at the reminder of his work schedule; Charlie nodded knowingly at this unspoken confirmation that her information was accurate. “I only need one look at you to know that you’re wound so tight it’s a surprise you’re not vibrating or something. You need some serious de-stressing, my friend.”

Dean sat up straighter, his mood brightening slightly. “But that’s why I want to get into the lifestyle,” he argued animatedly, “I think it’ll help if I can have someone to help turn my brain off.” Charlie’s face remained skeptical so he tried to explain himself better. “I know that BDSM isn’t a magic cure all, I just think it might be something that I might like and I need help so I know what I’m doing; if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the internet, it is you have to be safe with this stuff. That’s why I messaged the blog, well, messaged Gilda I guess.”

Charlie seemed a bit more at ease after this explanation and nodded. “Well at least I don’t have to cover that part of the lecture then.”

A tiny glimmer of hope was growing in his chest as he unconsciously gripped the counter. 

“You’ll help me then?” Dean asked.He wasn’t exactly sure what he would do if the store owner said she wouldn’t help him. Probably never attempt to actually address that particular desire of his most likely but then he’d gone this long with only fantasies and living vicariously through people on the internet to handle the interest; Dean supposed he could deal with only having that if need be.

“Yes, but I have a condition,” she replied, pointing a finger at him, her expression slightly stern. “While I can’t tell you to stop working yourself to death because obviously if you can’t make yourself stop, a stranger you just met couldn’t stop you, I want you to work on your stress levels before we get too far into your kinky education.”

Now he was confused. Isn’t that what the whole kinky thing was for?

His confusion must have been obvious because Charlie elaborated.

“I have a friend who teaches a yoga class,” she continued, rummaging around on her paper strewn desk, shouting triumphantly when she pulled a lavender colored pamphlet free. “Ah ha! His name is Castiel and his classes are amazing for learning how to handle stress.” She handed him the paper.

The pamphlet was for ‘Bee Happy Yoga’, a yoga studio just a few streets away from work strangely enough. According to the description, any one with any level of yoga experience was accepted and the teacher encouraged finding balance physically as well as mentally. It all seemed like the usual spiel to Dean who had never even been in the same room as a yoga mat.

He looked up at Charlie’s expectant face and raised an eyebrow. “Really, yoga? What does yoga have to do with being into kink?” He held the pamphlet out to her.

Charlie laughed as she took the paper back. “Well besides the obvious flexibility benefits,” she replied, her tone filled with amusement, “I feel like it would be very important for you to get your head tidied a bit. It seems to me that most of the problem you have is the fact that you’re stressed out of your gourd constantly and BDSM alone can’t fix that.” 

Dean’s shoulders slumped glumly. It was a stupid idea anyway. He opened his mouth to thank Charlie for her time when she cut him off again.

“Hold your horses Jumpy McJumperson and stop trying to make conclusions before I get to the point,” she said in a tone that reminded him of his mother which was slightly disconcerting to be honest. “I didn’t mean I wouldn’t help you get into the lifestyle. You’re obviously a nice guy Dean, I mean who else would sit here and talk sex shop talk with me for an hour and not make it weird, and I want to help you out so I’m going to make you a deal. I will teach you how to be a safe little kinkster if you work on vaporizing the Death-Star sized amount of stress in your life.”

That didn’t really sound like a bad condition in return for getting what essentially was a reliable education of BDSM, Dean couldn’t help but wonder why his stress levels mattered. Why would someone he just met feel the need to make sure his head was on straight? Sure, Charlie was very obviously a good person but this level of concern didn’t seem normal. He expressed these thoughts to her, hoping that he would offend but Charlie answered almost immediately.

“Because I have a feeling that we’re going to be friends, Dean,” she said as if this were obvious information and began typing rapidly on her computer. When Dean could only look at her in confusion, she elaborated, not once looking away from her monitor. “I happen to be an amazing judge of character and when I find a person who’s nice and seems like a decent human being, not to mention in possession of a good sense of humor, I tend to become friends with them whether they like it or not. Trust me, I’ll grow on you like mold.”

Raising a brow at the interesting imagery his apparently future friend provided, Dean confirmed in an amused tone, “So I’ve got no choice then?”

Charlie broke her staring contest with the computer to beam at him brightly. “Nope, I’ve come to the conclusion that you need a friend, Dean, and to be honest I like having someone to nerd out with about running the shop; Gilda can’t stand it when I go all business talk around her. So if it helps, you can look at this as two people helping each other out, you talking shop with me and me helping you learn about kink; that is until the inevitable friendship forces come into effect.” She hit a few keys on the keyboard with an air of finality. “There, done. You’re all set to start yoga class next month.”

Dean blinked stupidly, not sure if he heard that right. “I’m set up to do what now?”

His sense of propriety abandoning him for a moment, he leaned over the counter to peer at the screen. Sure enough the website for ‘Bee Happy Yoga’ was pulled up on the browser and had a window staying that the class he’d signed up for was on Fridays at seven and had a list of tips for first timers. He looked at Charlie with a dumbfounded expression, wondering just how the hell his day had made a turn down this road. This morning he had been nervously pacing his house as he chugged coffee and worried about coming to this very store and about work in equal parts and now here he was in a sex shop that was apparently owned by his new friend who’d signed him up for yoga classes, not to mention the whole ‘he would be getting lessons on BDSM’ thing.

“You’re kinda crazy, do you know that?” Dean asked, though he surprised himself at the fact that he wasn’t upset, just mildly confused and oddly amused. He couldn’t think of the last time when he’d been around someone who considered him a friend.

Instead of being offended, Charlie just shrugged. “It’s been said before but I think I’m the best kind of crazy. Now, about your training young padawan.”

Another twenty minutes later saw Dean leaving Charline’s with a discreet bag that contained several of Charlie’s own books on BDSM and orders to read through them and report back to her. They had exchanged cell numbers and Charlie had warned him that she would be making use of it since she wanted to help him ‘get the stick out of his ass’ since she believed he’d be much more fun without it. 

Dean couldn’t really disagree with her; his family did say that he wasn’t near as much fun as he used to be now that he worked for Sandover. His time with Charlie had really shone a light on how boring and blah his life had become. Maybe it was time for some other changes as well.

When he finally got back to his apartment, Dean placed his bag of books on the coffee table and went into the kitchen to make some dinner. He mentally tallied the things he need to accomplish this weekend from the work emails on his laptop to the new numbers for the Stevenson account that Alder had demanded and with this in mind, ate his lunch as quickly as possible. With his belly full and a fresh cup of coffee, Dean set himself up in the living room to work and started answering emails. He’d only been working for a few minutes before the bag on the table caught his eye.

No, there would be time for that later. Work came first.

Two emails later, he looked at it again. 

_A page or two couldn’t hurt_ , he thought to himself as he reached into the bag and pulled out a book. It had a sticky note on it that said ‘read me first’ in Charlie’s messy handwriting.

Promising himself that he’d get back to work in a minute, Dean opened the book and began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I'll have posted two fics containing sex shops within a few days of each other, haha


	4. After Which A Yoga Class Was Attended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have it...the first yoga class....

Today was the big day. In a few short hours Dean would be attending his first yoga class.

If he had been asked earlier this week if he were looking forward to his new hobby, Dean would have said no but now...well now he was a little more inclined to say that he was.

The week had been a long one, nothing really shocking there, though he had to admit a few of the difficulties were his own fault. Saturday afternoon he had gotten distracted from his work by Charlie’s books, again, and had missed out on getting a lot of work done so, in order to meet the schedule he’d worked out so he was on track, he’d had to work all day Sunday. The fact that he was falling into his bad habits wasn’t lost on Dean but he just couldn’t help himself. A small pathetic part of him considered texting Charlie in hopes that he could distract himself from the work that called out to him from his papers and his laptop but he brushed this thought aside roughly.

Charlie didn’t need to be bothered by some whiner about how he needed help resisting his workaholic urges, besides, this time the pile of work that had stacked up was entirely his fault. If he had stayed on his schedule instead of reading half of another one of the books in the pile that Charlie had provided, Dean wouldn’t have been forced to work all day.

His hard work over the weekend had paid off though because he was all ready to go by the time Monday rolled around. He had gone to work, prepared to show Adler that he was completely capable of doing the work required of him only to find a note tacked to his office door.

_Winchester,_

_Popped in to see if you were here but I guess you won’t be in until later today. I wanted to let you know that I’d also like to see a some projections based on these new mock ups. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get around to seeing them since I have several lunch meetings this week and several client meetings so just be sure they’re ready for when I show up._

_Z. Adler_

Dean had stared at the note, a pit opening in his stomach, when he’d gotten sight of the multiple pages of paperwork for the mock ups that his boss had attached to his note. When the hell had this happened? He had been the last person in this building with the exception of the maintenance personnel and the security guard last Friday and that note had definitely not been there when he left. 

A quick call down to the guard desk had told him everything he needed to know. According to the log the weekend security staff had on file, Adler had stopped by the office Saturday morning to grab his golf clubs from his office and had asked them if Dean had been in yet so that must have been when his boss had left the note. Dean had politely thanked the guard for his help and hung up the phone before tossing his completed papers in the junk drawer of his desk.

All the work he’d put in over the last month and he’d had to completely start over.

And so one of the worst weeks of his career had begun.

The rest of the week had been nothing but disastrous phone calls, meetings that overran their allotted time period by hours because the other people attending wanted to chit chat, customers who called to ask the same five questions about their accounts that they had asked last week and employees and coworkers who were either absent because they were sick or pretending to be sick. Alder never did show up to see the new projections that he’d slaved away on that horrible Monday morning; his assistant had called and said that he had taken the rest of the week off and would be back next week. All in all it had been a disaster.

Sarah had done her best to help but unfortunately there was only so much schedule rearranging and personal assistant magic she could do to ease his workload. She’d even offered to stay late with him a few nights just to help him with making copies or printing out papers he’d need for his presentations, anything that she could do to help, but he had declined. No need for both of them to be miserable especially since he knew for a fact that she had had plans. She had agreed reluctantly and given him that tired, resigned look as she’d left and he had made a mental note to get her some sort of flower arrangement or muffin basket to say that he appreciated her help.

The alarm on his phone went off, startling him out of his brooding.

Right, time for yoga class.

Dean gathered the papers he’d need for work over the weekend, his laptop and finally the bag of things he’d need for yoga tonight before leaving his office. He’d packed everything in a duffle bag which had been a good idea since Sarah had asked about it this morning; he had told her he was trying out a new gym he’d found today. There was no way he was going to tell anyone that he was going to a yoga class of all things.

Once he got down to the ground floor, he slipped into the men's room and changed into what he firmly referred to as his ‘workout clothes’ in his head. The list that Charlie had printed out for him said that it was best to wear something comfortable to class, nothing tight and that breathable fabric was best; taking that into account, Dean had chosen a pair of black lightweight sweatpants and a light grey t-shirt. He’d thrown a pair of sneakers into his bag as well, wearing dress shoes with sweatpants was ridiculous, even though the paper had said they would be going barefoot during class.

Finding the yoga studio was easy enough and soon Dean was parked in the ‘Bee Happy’ parking lot, staring at the inviting light issuing from the window and trying to make himself go inside. It didn’t help that he was a bit too early and would be the only one in there. He was half tempted to skip out and go home but he knew that wasn’t an option. The yoga instructor was a friend of Charlie’s and if he didn’t show up, Dean was sure the guy would report him to Charlie which would not end well for him. 

Not because she might not help him with his kink education but his new friend might drag him back here by the ear. Dean had come to know a surprising amount about the fiery woman since she had begun texting him quite frequently during the last month with occasional demands for get togethers at the coffee shop near her store. They had had a nice time talking about this and that, she’d even gotten him to admit his secret obsession with things he considered ‘nerdy’ which she happened to share, so that even though he’d technically only known her for a short time, Charlie was really starting to feel like a friend. 

And one thing he’d learned about Charlie was once she found a project, she didn’t give up and as said project, Dean had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well for him if he tried to get out of it. It was very obvious from their interactions that Charlie was somewhat disappointed that he hadn’t cut down on the amount of work that he was doing; she didn’t lecture him but Dean could tell that she wanted to inflict heavy damage to his work phone every time it rang while they were hanging out. The fact that his phone still worked was honestly surprising to him considering the fact that Charlie was some sort of technology wizard; all of her personality traits combined with this knowledge had led Dean to believe some day his phone would develop a mysterious virus that prevented him from using if for work or something but so far nothing. 

A slamming car door to his left, startled Dean out of his thoughts. He looked over and saw pair of young women chatting as they walked towards the building, yoga mat bags hanging jauntily from their shoulders. How long had he been sitting here in his car alone with his thoughts staring at the building? 

Apparently long enough for the parking lot to fill up and about a dozen people to take up residence in the studio; he could see them rolling out their mats, talking and laughing with one another and generally looking comfortable and happy. In all honesty it made him feel even more nervous, going into the room while it was empty suddenly seemed far more preferable to walking into the middle of a group of people who obviously knew one another. The desire to cut and run hit him again but he squashed it down.

He was Dean Winchester, Director of Marketing for Sandover Industries; he’d gone into meetings with complete strangers and walked out with solid business contacts, he should be able to go into a yoga class and talk to people. This was nothing compared to work.

Breathing deep, Dean grabbed his bag and got out of the car, walking resolutely to the door of ‘Bee Happy Yoga’. Warm air, quiet chatter and a pleasant earthy smell greeted him when he pushed open the door. To his immense relief, only a few people turned to look at him before turning back to their conversations and he was allowed to scurry unmolested to an unoccupied corner at the back of the room, far away from the wall of mirrors at the front.

He looked around and observed the other people, trying to follow their lead. Most of the students had their mats laid out so they were pointing at the front of the room; some of them had props which made him feel a bit better. Charlie had suggested that he purchase some yoga props, blocks, straps and such, since it was his first time doing yoga and he’d done so but deep down he felt a bit ashamed that he needed help doing fancy stretches. Now that he knew other people used them, he didn’t feel quite as stupid.

Once his area was set up, he sat down on his mat, hands clasped awkwardly in front of him and waited for the teacher to show up, hoping that no one would initiate conversation; he wasn’t really feeling up to it after the day he’d had. Dean just wanted to do some stretches and funny breathing exercises and go home.

“Alright everyone, are we ready to get started?” a deep rumbling voice said, as a man who had to be the teacher walked into the room. Dean had to work very hard not to let his eyes bug out of his head at the sight of the yoga instructor.

The man was sex personified.

A leanly muscular body clad in a light blue muscle shirt and a pair of dark gray workout pants that clung enticingly to the man’s legs. What really drew Dean in though, was the messy head of dark hair that looked like some lucky person had been running their fingers through it and the deep blue eyes that peered out happily at the class from a face that most definitely belonged in a magazine somewhere; Dean would know, he was in marketing after all.

“Okay, since this is the first class for some of you, let’s cover the basics,” the sexy instructor continued as he walked to the front of the room and unrolled his mat in front of the mirror wall. He lowered himself fluidly and crossed his legs. “I’m Castiel, I’ll be your teacher but feel free to call me Cas. Now since this new to most of you, we’re going to take it easy today and focus on the basics. This is supposed to be fun and relaxing so I don’t want anyone pushing themselves too hard.” He smiled and clapped his hands together, a dazzling grin on his face. “So in line with our relaxed session today, I’m going to put on some music and adjust the lighting really quick.”

Castiel stood and walked over to a sound system in the front corner; soft piano music filled the room. Next the yoga instructor plugged in a few small lamps at the edges of the room and turned them on before turning off the overhead lights, bathing the room in an even softer glow. The combination was actually pretty soothing.

Over the next hour, Castiel led them through what he called a “gentle beginners sequence” though the sweat on Dean’s forehead and the soreness in his shoulders and arms argued that this name wasn’t exactly accurate. He panted as he moved into what had to be the millionth downward facing dog of the evening.

Resting pose his ass.

“Good job everyone,” Castiel’s voice encouraged calmly from the front of the room, his voice slightly muffled from being upside down and facing his legs. “Now lower your knees and come into child’s pose for a few breaths. We’ll be moving into savasana here soon.”

The sighs of relief from some of the people around him led Dean to belief that whatever this ‘savasana’ thing was, it had to be better than downward facing dog; this assumption was proved correct when Castiel revealed that this pose was basically laying out on the ground. This was Dean’s kind of yoga.

“Now I want you all to close your eyes and focus on your breathing,” the teacher said, the deep quality of his voice giving his words a hypnotic quality that had Dean’s eyelids closing instantly. 

As he laid there, his previously tired muscles now settling into a pleasantly warm and liquidy feeling, Dean mused that he owed Charlie an apology. This was actually pretty nice; he was vaguely aware that the nagging tension in his back was gone and the absence of aching pain almost made him want to cry.

Castiel spoke again from his mat. “I’ll be around to offer a shoulder release for those of you who want one, if this interests you, please raise your hand.”

Maybe it was the joy of being mostly relaxed for the first time in recent memory or the influence of the calm environment or maybe the fact that his mind was all soft and gooey but some force compelled Dean to raise his hand. His action didn’t really sink in until he picked up the sound of Castiel padding around the room and an edge of nerves wormed its way into the calm he had created. 

What had he just agreed to? What exactly did a shoulder release entail? What if it was some weird yoga thing and he hated it?

His stomach churned as he laid on his mat, tensing slightly as the footsteps on the floor got closer. He was trying to come up with a way to ask if he could opt out when he felt someone at his head. Dean’s eyes opened and he was face to face with Castiel, looking into those blue eyes; all his practiced words shot out of his head in an instant.

“You did very well today,” Castiel murmured quietly. The teacher placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders and pressed down firmly but gently, giving them a slight rub as he did so. Dean didn’t even have time to whisper a thank you before the other man was gone, off to the next student. 

A few minutes later, Castiel was warning the class that he was turning the lights back on and suggested covering their eyes with a hand to help adjust. Dean dutifully covered his eyes and was glad his did when the bright lights clicked back on in the room. After a brief adjustment period for his eyes, Dean sat up and looked around.

The rest of the students were packing up, most of them leaving in groups but not before stopping to chat with Castiel. Dean rolled up his mat and put it and his props away then sat down to put his socks and sneakers on again, planning on leaving without talking to the teacher. The universe had other plans however.

A shadow fell over him, causing Dean to look up; Castiel was standing there, looking down at him with a smile.

“Hey there,” he said cheerily, holding out a hand to help Dean stand. Not wanting to seem rude, Dean took the proffered hand and stood up as they seamlessly moved into a handshake. “It’s nice to see some new faces, did you enjoy your first class?” The tone at the end of this question was an obvious ploy to learn his name.

“Yeah, it was very relaxing,” Dean answered, breaking off the handshake and shuffling a bit in his awkwardness. “I’m Dean by the way.”

Castiel’s face brightened and he pointed a finger at him. “Oh, you’re the friend that Charlie told me about.”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know, you’re the second person to say that to me,” he said, shaking his head, forgetting his nerves at the strange coincidence. “So, should I be worried about what she’s told you about me?” Dean continued in an attempt to be light. 

This earned him a reassuring smile and a laugh. Castiel patted him on the shoulder before taking his hand away and Dean definitely feel a bit sad at the loss of the touch. “Oh no, you don’t have to worry,” the yoga instructor replied, “She just told me you’ve been having a rough time at work with stress and I should make sure you leave here nice and relaxed.”

Being in possession of a filthy mind and into year two of work induced celibacy, Dean’s mind instantly supplied him with several scenarios were Castiel helped him ‘relax’, most of them taking advantage of the remarkable flexibility that the other man possessed. He forced those thoughts away and prayed that his face wasn’t turning red. “Well, I feel pretty good,” he said, hoping to cover what he imagined was a strained silence though the yoga teacher didn’t seem to notice his delay in response. “I’m definitely looking forward to learning more.”

“We’ll make a yogi of you yet,” Castiel promised. He reached down to hand Dean his bag, smiling another one of those distracting smiles. Dean took the bag, fighting the urge to shiver when their fingers brushed and blue eyes looked straight into his own. “I’ll see you next week then, Dean.”

The sound of his name being said in that gravelly voice sent another shiver down Dean’s spine; a state of affairs that was thankfully not broadcast to the owner of said voice since Castiel had already turned to talk to another student. Taking this as the gift it was, Dean quickly made his way out of the studio and out into the night, breathing a sigh of relief once he was safely in his car and away from the intense gaze of Castiel Novak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now they've met!!
> 
> I agree with Dean on downward facing dog; the longer I do yoga the more get why it's a resting pose but I have weak wrists (courtesy of my mom's side of the family) so doing that pose a lot isn't oodles of fun. Now savasana...that's the stuff right there. Love me some savasana :)


	5. Then There Was A Conversation

Dean watched with more than slight amusement and a side of self satisfaction as Charlie squirmed in her seat, toyed with her coffee mug and made random chattering remarks about anything and everything but what she really wanted to talk about; he could see she was working very hard not to say anything. Smirking, he took a leisurely sip of his own coffee as he enjoyed the power. He didn’t get the upper hand on the fiery red head very often, if ever, and even though their friendship was technically very new, deep down he knew it was highly likely this trend would continue for the foreseeable future. 

“I know you’re dying to ask,” he said smugly, finally taking pity on his friend when she started to look a bit deranged with her energetic movements. “You look like you might explode if you don’t find out.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Charlie excitedly blurted out, “So how’s yoga class been going?!” Dean chuckled quietly into his mug.

It had been several weeks since Dean had started his weekly yoga class and he was quite frankly surprised that his friend hadn’t busted down his door yet in search of information. He was acutely aware that Charlie wanted him to like the class but, out of some sort of respect to Dean, she hadn’t bugged him for details yet. Probably in an attempt to give him time to get used to the new activity since she knew he wasn’t too keen on the idea which showed a shocking amount of restraint on the hyperactive red head’s part. 

“It’s been going pretty well, I guess,” he answered honestly. Charlie was leaning forward over her coffee, face obviously absorbing every detail as if it were the trailer for the next Star Wars movie. “It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be though.”

Charlie nodded in sympathy as she leaned back in her seat. “Oh, I totally know what you mean,” she agreed, “When Gilda made me go to one of her yoga classes after I teased her about her ‘stretches’, she made me a bet; if I could make it through one yoga class, she would never make me go again and I could tease her all I wanted but if not, I’d have to go until I could make it through one without having to give up. Half an hour later I was laying in a heap on my mat, panting like a dog, and Gilly was signing me up for more classes.” 

Dean laughed, enjoying the irony of that statement. “If it weren’t for the fact that happened before we met, I would call it karma.” He sipped his coffee as a thought occurred to him. “Is there such a thing as preemptive karma?”

“So have you noticed a bit of a difference, you know, stress-wise?” she asked, ignoring the teasing about her own yoga experience while Dean took a bite of his muffin.

He hummed in the affirmative, and partially in appreciation of the blueberry muffin, and swallowed. “As much as I was hoping this yoga stuff would be a bunch of nonsense,” he said grudgingly, “All that ‘remember to breathe’ shit has actually helped a little. Every once and awhile when things get rough at work, I remind myself to take a minute to breathe and that usually helps make everything feel like it’s not about to explode in a fiery ball of crazy.”

And if it just so happened that the reminder in his head sounded like the gravelly yet soothing tones of a certain yoga instructor, well...Charlie didn’t need to know that.

The next several minutes were spent talking about Dean’s thoughts on the yoga poses. They both agreed that downward facing dog was _not_ a resting pose and that yogi bicycles were the invention of Satan. Dean told her about some of the sequences that had quickly become his favorites.

“It’s like Cas can read my back’s mind with this sequence,” he babbled as he tried to convey how fantastic his back felt after the yoga instructor’s class that focused on the back muscles. During the lesson, Cas had kept up a steady stream of information on the musculature of the back along with his instructions; Dean had learned how to alleviate the aching tension that he got between his shoulder blades after hours at his desk and had been surprised to find out that tight hamstrings could lead to lower back issues. “And then during savasana, when he was doing the aligning stuff, he did this rotating thing to my shoulders that was just awesome.”

Charlie, who was already pretty buzzed on her super sized dose of caffeine, perked up suddenly; she leaned forward, an enormous grin on her face. “Am I to guess from that little nickname that you’re getting along with Cas?” she asked with an oddly intense light in her eyes. 

Worried that his friend would sniff out his little crush, Dean attempted a casual air and lied his ass off. “He’s the one who told us to call him Cas, Charlie,” he explained nonchalantly. His hands picked idly at the napkin under the remnants of his muffin. “I think he’s an alright teacher; I was expecting one of those guys who’d spend the whole time being all serious and talking about energy and chakras and shit but he seems like a regular guy which is kinda nice.”

There was a beat of silence, Charlie’s eyes narrowed minutely before widening to the size of dinner plates. 

“So you _do_ like him!” she blurted, an enormous grin on her face.

Dean fought like crazy to keep the blood from rushing to his face; luckily for him, years of attending high pressure meetings allowed him to maintain a cool exterior in certain situations. Pointedly blocking out that voice that sounded suspiciously like Cas’ reminding him that deep breaths can help maintain calm because it would definitely not help his current situation, Dean rolled his eyes. “I told you I like him, Charlie,” he drawled casually, “I like his classes and how he teaches them.”

Rule one of lying: keep as close to the truth as possible. He did like how Cas taught his classes; like how he told everyone modifications were nothing to be ashamed of and how he kept things light and fun, so he wasn’t really lying. It just so happened that he also enjoyed listening to the other man talk in that soothing yet sexy voice of his for almost an hour, accepting pose alignment help since it meant he got to have those hands on him for a brief time and sneaking a few peeks at the instructor’s ass in the mirrors. 

Well, maybe more than a few; it was a very nice ass.

Charlie pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow. “You know what I mean, smart ass. I think lil’ Deanie has a crush on his yoga teacher.” She laughed at the scowl on Dean’s face and held up her hands defensively when he opened his mouth to deny her accusation. “It’s totally understandable, the man is extremely attractive.” Her face took on an air of conspiracy as she leaned forward to the middle of the table and she whispered, “And my sources tell me that he’s single and ready to mingle.”

Dean groaned and had to fight really hard not to smack his head off the table so he settled for rubbing at his face. “Come on, Charlie,” he groaned pitifully, “You’ve got to stop this.”

For the last few weeks, it was almost impossible to escape a visit and/or conversation with his friend without at least one attempt to get him back into the dating pool; she had been scandalized to hear that his last date had been over two years ago. If it wasn’t an offer to help him create a dating profile or not so casual mentions of nearby bars that were good places to meet people, it was trying to set him up with people she knew. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the effort, Dean was touched that Charlie cared so much, but he didn’t really see the point. All the guys that Charlie wanted to introduce him to were, by her own admission, pretty vanilla which seemed counterproductive considering the fact Dean’s non-vanilla tendencies were what caused them to even meet and become friends. 

He supposed it would be different if she were trying to hook him up with Doms or something but whenever Dean brought the idea of her introducing anyone like that to him, she got a bit twitchy.

“I don’t get what the point would be,” he continued as they left the coffee shop. He really didn’t want to have a kink related conversation in the middle of a public place so he’d suggested they leave; Charlie had quickly agreed, mentioning that she needed to head to the shop anyway for some deliveries, so they gathered their coats and left. “You know that I want to find a Dom so why do you want to set me up with all these run of the mill guys? I would figure you’d know some guys who are into this stuff that you’d want to introduce me to.”

Charlie sighed, her brow knit in concentration as if she were trying to solve a really difficult problem. She didn’t speak for a moment but then she blew out a puff of air. “I was really hoping to avoid this talk for a while but I guess it’s time I told you but you’re not going to like it,” she said slowly, eyeing him from the corner of her eye. They had arrived at an intersection and she didn’t elaborate until they were on the other side. “I know how bound and determined you are to find yourself a Dom but I don’t think you understand how difficult that will be.”

“It shouldn’t be that hard,” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes. “There are all sorts of places to meet people who are part of the lifestyle, your books taught me that.”

They’d arrived at the door to Charlie’s shop; she dug out her nerdily decked out keychain and opened the door. “And those books are a bit, how should I put this, sugar coated I guess would be the term,” Charlie explained as they entered the shop, flipping on lights as they went. “They make it seem like all you have to do is make an online profile to the right website or go to a couple of clubs and you’ll find likely candidates for Doms but the sad truth is, most Doms you find aren’t really Doms at all.”

Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow causing his friend to huff in exasperation. Obviously this talk wasn’t going the way she’d hoped it would. They both took their now usual seats at the counter; Charlie spun on her stool so she was facing him.

“Seriously Dean, most of the guys you meet online who say they’re ‘Doms’,” she elaborated, actually going so far as to put air quotes around the word for emphasis. “About seventy five percent of them are skeeze-bags who are just hoping to snag themselves an impressionable girl, or guy, and turn them into a sex slave. One thing I’ve learned from talking to other Doms and subs online is that it’s really scary how easy it is to be taken advantage of; I’ve heard some real horror stories from some of the people I know.”

“So basically what you’re saying is that all this learning about this stuff is going to probably end up being worthless, is that it?” Dean asked, feeling pretty damn crestfallen. He should have known that something like this would happen. Things had been going so well, he’d made a friend, found a new hobby and had vastly expanded his knowledge of BDSM so it just stands to reason that something would go wrong. 

Charlie waved her hands and shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all!”

“Well, it sounds like you’re saying that even if I know what I’m doing, the chances of me finding a non-creepy Dom are pretty non-existent,” he shot back, a bit sharper than he’d intended; Charlie grimaced slightly at his tone and he immediately regretted it.

“No, I’m---Ugh, I’m horrible at this,” his friend groaned, tugging at her long hair in frustration. She took a breath and placed her hands firmly on the counter as if to absorb the surface’s stability. “Dean, what I’m trying to say is that maybe, instead of completely focusing on finding a Dom, maybe you should shift your focus try finding a nice guy.”

“So you’re suggesting that I trade the apparently impossible task of finding someone to be my Dom for the just as difficult mission of finding a nice guy?” Dean asked incredulously. He huffed a small laugh and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that doesn’t seem like a step in a better direction.”

Tapping the counter enthusiastically she pointed at him, the grin making a reappearance on her face. “But, it’s a step that I can actually help you with,” she exclaimed cheerily, throwing her arms in the air. Charlie opened her mouth, probably to continue her ‘get Dean a man’ campaign speech, but was interrupted by the arrival of the delivery guy. She pointed at him, the unspoken order to stay put clear in her demeanor, before disappearing down the aisles of shelves.

Dean sighed and slouched over the counter so his chin rested on his folded arms, staring at the pamphlets for various sex toy brands that were placed next to the register and considering Charlie’s argument.

Maybe Charlie was right.

BDSM was all about trust so it did stand to reason that it would be easier to find someone who he actually liked as a person, and completely trusted of course, and eventually tell them about his less than normal preferences. If the majority of people who went around claiming they were Dominants were actually creeps, it also stood to reason that some of them had been doing it for a long time and Dean would admit, extremely grudgingly, that he did tend to put up with a lot of crappy situations if he thought it might result in something he wanted; just look at the mess he’d made of his job, it was exhibits A all the way through to Z that Dean Winchester had an issue with looking out for himself. 

He reached a hand out to toy absentmindedly with the hot pink fluff decorating a pair of those cheesey, fuzzy handcuffs hanging from a small display rack. Some of the books did say that there’s always a good chance that, even if you haven’t told the other person about it, your partner might actually feel the same as you or be willing to try; this advice was directed towards people who were already in committed relationships but the principle still applied. 

Maybe it would be easier, and safer, for him to try to find an open minded guy and then tell him about his kinks. Hell, if he actually did find a nice guy who just happened to be open to trying new things, they would be able to learn together and that was a plus if the books were to be believed. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes; Charlie was definitely going to rub his face in the fact that she was right.

And speaking of the red headed whirlwind, the sound of his friend wishing the delivery guy a nice afternoon was shortly followed by the shop door being closed and relocked and soon a large box was being plonked down onto the counter, mere inches from his nose.

“Ooops, sorry about that,” Charlie apologized sheepishly, sliding the offending parcel slightly towards herself and beginning to open it. Apparently it was dildo delivery day, judging by the packages of neon colored penises that were being stacked in neat piles on the counter. “There, now all I have to do is get these all priced and put on the shelf and I’ll be home-free.” She pulled out her price sticker gun and, after consulting her computer for prices, started slapping tags on the boxes. “So, back to our interrupted conversation,” she began to say but Dean cut her off.

“I thought about it and,” he said cautiously, knowing exactly what his next words were going to result in, “I think that maybe it’s possible that you’re right.” 

Personally Dean felt the outrageous victory dance that followed this confession was a bit much but at least he’d expected this sort of reaction. He waited patiently for his friend to exhaust herself before he continued. “If you’re finished,” he said pointedly once Charlie had resumed pricing her shipment of dildos, “Since you say that trying to find a ready made Dom is not going to work then I guess the next best option is to find a guy who might be open to learning with me.”

Charlie nodded eagerly, her entire face lit up with a grin; she set down her pricing gun and leaned forward onto the counter. “Now you’re finally making sense, Winchester,” she replied smugly, “Now, when do I get to start playing matchmaker?”

Groaning in defeat, Dean allowed his head to fall forward onto the counter amidst the slightly evil cackling of his friend and wonder just what it was that he’d just signed up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I agree with Dean and Charlie; yogi bicycles are a work of evil and make my abdominal muscles cry, haha.
> 
> Okay my lovely readers, I have a question for you all.
> 
> Due to the fact that my chapter lengths are starting to double (going from around 6 pages to about 10 -12) as I get deeper into this story, I fear we may reach the end of my prewritten chapters sooner than I thought because writing chapters is taking longer than I anticipated. Would you prefer that I keep with my weekly schedule until we run out of chapters or that I switch to a biweekly updating schedule to draw out what we have left for a little longer? 
> 
> Full disclosure: we'll probably still get caught up eventually since I am afflicted with the horrible disease known as long-fic-itis but I leave it up to you. (If any of you are reading Alchemy, Automail & Affection, that will be hitting the same roadblock so I'll be posing a similar question on Friday update for that.)
> 
> So let me know what you guys think :)


	6. Followed By Some Awful Dates

“And now we place our hands on the floor and take one last vinyasa if you wish or if you’re feeling a bit sore or a bit off today, take a nice child’s pose.”

Sweat dripped into Dean’s eyes as he followed Cas’ directions. Feeling a little keyed up, he actually decided to take the vinyasa though it may have been more than a bit modified but he didn’t mind so much when the instructor told them all how well they were doing. Everyone settled onto the floor and they went through the familiar final poses of the class before ending up in the oh so lovely savasana. While he was adjusting his head, Dean noticed that they were ending class a few minutes earlier than normal which was pretty odd since Cas usually had impeccable timing.

“Now, tonight I thought I would guide you through a mini-meditation for a few minutes,” Cas’ voice sounded through the room over the now quieter calming music. “Just for a change for those of you who come here often but this should benefit everyone.”

Dean took a moment to feel a flush of pride that he felt he could include himself in the group of people who came to class regularly; it was nice to not be the completely new person anymore. He’d even talked to a few of the people around him, not a lot to be honest but enough to at least be considered friendly.

Cas began speaking again. “Okay, I want you all to close your eyes and just listen…”

The next few minutes were pretty damn awesome in Dean’s book since all he had to do was lay back and listen to the peaceful and calming tones of Cas’ voice as it told him when to breathe and how focus on the weight of his body sinking into the mat. He felt that fantastic sensation of being both super heavy but almost weightless and wished that he could feel like this more often. He’d tried to accomplish this at home but no matter what sequences he did at home, he couldn’t quite achieve this; his theory was that it was Cas’ voice that set it off.

_Maybe I could convince him to make me a CD with him talking like this_ , his fuzzy mind offered as he lay there, eyes closed. _Yeah that would be nice and then I could ask him to make it personal, he’d be saying my name in that weirdly calming sex voice of his like “Focus on your breathing, Dean. Feel the ground supporting your spine, Dean. Imagine me adjusting your posture, Dean. Dean...Dean...Dean…_ ”

“Dean!”

Snorting and flailing his arms, Dean’s eyes snapped open to see the hauntingly blue eyes of his yoga instructor staring down at him; they were slightly concerned but he could see a hefty dose of amusement there as well. Dean blinked stupidly up at him.

“Well, I guess it’s obvious that you enjoyed the mini-meditation,” the instructor said, smiling down at where Dean was still laid out on his yoga mat. “You were down pretty deep. I thought I was going to have to shake you.”

Dean could feel his cheeks flushing in embarrassment as he sat up; he shifted off his mat and began to roll it up to put away. “I’m sorry about that, Cas,” he said apologetically, stuffing his mat into his gym bag. “I hope you don’t think I thought that was boring; it was really good, soothing.”

Cas smiled at him. “Oh no, I don’t think that at all,” he assured Dean. He crouched down and began handing him his yoga props helping him pack up for the night. “I’m actually flattered that I was able to help you relax that deeply. You’ve made a lot of progress since you’ve started coming here.”

For a brief second, Dean felt that spark of mischievousness that had always gotten him into trouble as a teenager and he couldn’t resist. “I bet you say that to all your students,” he said, purposefully giving the statement a dash of innuendo. 

He immediately regretted this impulsive decision when Cas response was to freeze in the middle of handing over a yoga block. Their eyes met for a second, terrified green meeting puzzled blue before Cas responded, “I do say that to all my students because they all work very hard and improve. I look forward to seeing just how far you’ll go, Dean.”

Cas smiled politely and Dean was relieved that he decided to ignore the elephant in the room. Thanking the instructor for another great lesson, Dean hurriedly gathered his things and scurried out of the door before his mouth could get him into anymore trouble.

Once he was home, Dean took the time to check his phone and saw he had a text from Charlie.

_From Charlie: Guuueesss what?! I have another date lined up for you for next week!!!!! :D_

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned, wishing that the text had been about anything but that. The last time he’d gotten a text like that, he’d ended up on the second worst date of his life. Second only to the first blind date his friend had set him up on. Dreading what was to come, he sluggishly texted back.

_To Charlie: Oh, goody. What do you have for me this time, Red?_

It had been a few weeks since his heart to heart with Charlie about the issues of finding a Dom and his grudging acceptance to allow his friend to set him up on dates. Charlie had hit the ground running and, within days of their agreement, had sent Dean the information on the first guy she’d found; Dean highly suspected she had been compiling the list of candidates since the moment they’d met but he did appreciate the speed. It gave him less time to sit and worry about whether he’d made the right call or not.

Unfortunately the first date had been horrendous. The guy, a fellow business man named Aaron, had seemed like a really good choice to start with, if a little twitchy. They’d gone to dinner at a decent restaurant and things had been progressing nicely...until Aaron's ex-boyfriend showed up. Aaron’s extremely large, aggressive and supremely jealous ex-boyfriend. By some miracle, Dean had been able to avoid a scene in the restaurant but the same couldn’t be said about the street. The man, Dean never did catch his name, had threatened to beat the hell out of him if he didn’t back off while Aaron had loudly told him to fuck off, that they were done. 

Things had gotten worse and worse until Aaron had angrily whispered something to the giant, causing him to leave in a remarkably peaceful manner. Being the gentleman that he was, and because he was slightly worried for his date’s safety, Dean had walked Aaron home and learned that apparently Aaron was in an on-again off-again relationship with the giant and that it was normal for them to fight like that. Once they were at Aaron’s apartment, he’d apologized for getting Dean involved, that deep down he’d known he wasn’t ready to move on so he shouldn’t have agreed to see him when Charlie asked if he’d be interested; especially considering what had happened. Dean had accepted and wished Aaron good luck on his relationship before leaving.

Date one: Failure

The second date, this time with a cop named Nick, ended badly but not nearly as bad as the first. Nick had suggested the old classic, dinner and a movie, which Dean had agreed to and they met up at the movie theater. The movie had been decent, the latest Hollywood action-fest filled with explosions, double agents and scantily clad women, so at least they had something to talk about at dinner. Like with the last date, everything had been going well; Nick had been a really nice guy and he seemed to like a lot of things that Dean did which might have meant he would be open to trying out some of Dean’s more interesting pastimes. Then they’d left the diner they had been eating at and Nick turned into a sex fiend.

It wasn’t that Dean was a prude but he wasn’t the type to just have sex with someone within the first few hours of meeting him. Dean had laughed off the first few offers to go home with Nick but after the seventh not so subtle hint that he wanted to fuck, he’d lost his temper and told the guy to go fuck himself if he was so damn horny. 

Nick had gotten angry and came back with an insult about how it was ‘obvious’ that Dean had been off the market for a while and was desperate for company, that he’d been willing to overlook the fact that Dean was probably out of practice and would most likely be a shitty lay. While the barb had hurt momentarily, Dean was quick to shake it off and, in a moment of strange clarity, he turned his back on the angry creep and just walked away, leaving him to find his own way home and ignoring the pissed off ranting that echoed in the parking lot behind him.

Date two: Failure

Charlie of course had been horrified when she’d heard how each of these dates had transpired and, after making grand promises to vet his next date as thoroughly as was humanly possible, she’d somehow gotten him to agree to a few more dates. How his friend had secured this promise after the absolute train wrecks he’d experienced was a mystery to him but Dean figured there couldn’t possibly be anything worse than those two dates.

A loud ping dragged Dean from his reverie. Bracing himself for the worst, he opened the text.

_From Charlie: His name is Balthazar, he’s an art historian over at the museum and I talked to him myself and I’m absolutely positive there are no ginormous angry exs and that he’s not a douche-nozzle_

Despite the complete disasters that his dates had been, Dean couldn’t help but chuckle a little at Charlie’s enthusiastic endorsement of this Balthazar guy. He did have a bit more hope for this one since his friend had actually talked to him personally. The last two were guys she hadn’t actually met but knew about through friends; apparently these friends were thoroughly lectured about proper vetting techniques after the train wreck dates by an irate red head.

_To Charlie: I guess he sounds okay. When are we going to meet up?_

_From Charlie: Next Thursday, 9pm at that new hibachi place on 5th though he said he was open to changing anything if you need to_

_To Charlie: That sounds good, tell him I look forward to meeting him_

Putting down the phone, Dean put next Thursday out of his mind. He had a few reports he wanted get taken care of before he went to bed.

  


“Not to be rude, Mr. Winchester, but you seem to have a bit more luggage than normal,” Sarah commented from where she was standing in front of his desk, papers in hand. Dean followed her gaze to the chair next to one of his filing cabinets; stacked neatly on the seat was his usual gym bag for his weekly yoga class, not that Sarah knew about that, but this week there was a second bag that held a change of clothes for his dinner with Balthazar.

Dean smiled slightly and took the papers. “Ah, yeah, I may have a date tonight,” he confessed a bit sheepishly under Sarah’s investigative look. “It’s right after my y--workout time, so I’ll have to change there before going to dinner.”

“That sounds nice,” Sarah said with a bright smile, “It’s good to see you getting out and about. For the last year or so, you’ve been so stressed and tired but lately I’ve noticed that you seem...brighter somehow.”

Before Dean had the chance to feel embarrassed that his assistant had noticed his change in attitude, Sarah swiftly changed the subject to the multiple meetings he had scheduled for the day but the specter of the pending dinner lurked in the back of his mind.

For the first time since that first class all those months ago, Dean was dreading going to Bee Happy Yoga studio. 

He’d sat outside the familiar building much like that first time but this time, instead of debating on whether he would go inside, he was musing if pretending to get some sort of yoga injury would be enough cause to cancel his date with Balthazar. His stomach was tight with nerves, a feeling he was quite familiar with even though it hadn’t quite been the constant companion it used to be, and not even the thought of going to class helped like it usually did.

Cars started filing into the parking lot. Sighing and internally scolding himself for being a worrier, Dean gathered his bag and left the car to head inside.

Class went by at abnormally fast pace though Dean chalked it up to his nerves just like he did with the fact that it was as if he’d forgotten how do any of the yoga poses he’d learned. If he wasn’t toppling out of a pose due to not balancing right on his feet, it was getting out of sync with the sequence or pushing too hard and twinging his muscles. By the end of class, Dean was breathing hard and feeling even more wound up rather than being relaxed, not even the usual breathing directions at the end of class did anything to help. Dean could practically feel the ‘negative energy’, as Cas would have called it, coming off him in waves as he started shoving his yoga mat and props into his bag carelessly. 

This was just great, not only was he probably going to have to go and have a horrible time with this art historian guy, now he wasn’t even going to have the advantage of being all zen that he’d been planning on. One of the reasons he hadn’t asked to reschedule the time of the date was because he figured getting into that calm and meditative state of mind would help keep him from being worried.

_So much for that plan_ , he thought bitterly to himself, face feeling tight and frustrated. Resigning himself to a horrible evening, Dean stood up to slip into the yoga studio’s bathroom to change only to run into someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry Dean,” Cas said, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. As per usual, Cas’ hand was warm and strong. The instructor’s head tilted to the side as he looked at Dean and took in his tense demeanor. “Are you alright? You seem stressed and I noticed you appeared to be having an off night.”

His deeply ingrained instinct to conceal any signs of weakness kicked in and he tried to casually brush off the concern. “Oh, I’m fine,” he said with forced cheerfulness, waving his hand in dismissal. “There’s a bit of time crunch at work at the moment so I guess my brain was there instead of here tonight. I’ll be better next week, promise.”

Cas pursed his lips, eyes narrowed critically. He crossed his arms causing the already prominent muscles to be on display, momentarily distracting Dean; they were very nice arms. “Not to be argumentative, Dean,” he said calmly, but with a bit of firmness that he’d had yet to encounter from Cas, “But I don’t quite believe you’re telling me the truth.” 

Cas uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his already mussed hair, looking around the room as if to find the right words; the rest of the class had already left with only one or two stragglers standing by the door chatting. Feeling strangely bad for lying to Cas, Dean couldn’t quite bring himself to look him in the eye so he settled for looking at his shoes. 

“While it’s true we haven’t known each other that long,” he continued, “I consider you a friend, or an very good acquaintance if you’re more comfortable with that, so I want you to know that if you need to talk about anything, I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.” Dean forced himself to look up and saw that Cas was grinning brightly at him; he couldn’t stop the ghost of a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I didn’t know that being a yoga teacher makes you a human lie detector, Cas,” Dean sighed, readjusting the straps for the bags on his shoulder. “You’re right, I am a bit off tonight because...well..I kind of have a...date tonight,” he confessed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And, well I haven’t dated in a while, and the last two that I went on were just...complete fucking trainwrecks, so…”

Cas interrupted him, finishing his thought. “And you’re afraid this one will continue the trend.”

Dean pointed at him and tried to put on a casual front to mask his nerves and embarrassment. “Got it in one,” he confirmed before sighing tiredly. “I just don’t know if I can handle another dude being a skeeze or having crazy ex-boyfriend’s coming out of the woodwork during dessert or whatever other disaster might happen this time.” He paused for a second to chuckle ruefully. “Maybe I should just be a hermit or something.”

A hand rested itself tentatively on his shoulder, causing him to look up at him as he began speaking. “If I felt that you truly wanted to be a hermit, I would tell you to embrace your dream,” Cas said, forcing a huff of laughter from Dean, “But I feel that you don’t really want to be alone. So my advice is to not let a few bad experiences ruin your quest to find that---special guy.”

The expression on Cas face when he said these words puzzled Dean more than a little bit. Normally a look like that, coupled with the emphasis put on ‘guy’, meant that whoever he was talking to didn’t really like the fact that Dean was gay but that didn’t make any sense coming from Cas since Charlie confirmed that he was into men. That was also why the almost imperceptible scowl on his face was so confusing especially when Cas seemed to notice just how long they had been touching, he quickly removed his hand from Dean’s shoulder like he’d been burned.

All in all it was pretty odd behaviour but Dean couldn’t quite figure out what it meant.

“Anyway,” Cas continued with no small amount of awkwardness in his voice. His eyes, which usually kept up a constant intense contact with Dean’s own, suddenly found something just beyond his shoulder extremely interesting. “As your yoga instructor, I suggest that if get into a into a stressful situation or find that your nerves are creeping up on you, remember your breathing. There is a---”

“A lot of power in the breath,” Dean finished dutifully, having heard this phrase at least a dozen times each class. He smiled softly him. “Yeah, I know, Cas.”

A bit of the strained tension coming from Cas seemed to dissipate, a bright smile taking over his face. “Well, at least now I can tell that you’ve been paying attention to me,” the instructor replied with satisfaction. There was a moment of silence where neither of them moved to speak; they just stood there looking at one another. Before the moment could turn awkward, as it inevitably was going to if any of Dean’s past experience was worth anything, Dean opened his mouth the break the standoff at the same time Cas started to speak.

“Dean, I--”

“I better get changed,” Dean said at the same time, cutting off whatever Cas was about to say as he motioned towards the bathroom door with his bag. “Don’t want to be late for my date.”

Cas shook his head as if to bring himself out of a fog and quickly stepped to the side, looking embarrassed. “Oh yes, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he gestured for Dean to walk past him. “I guess I got a bit carried away with my need to stick my nose in everyone’s business.” 

Dean didn’t get a chance to refute this statement since Cas promptly scurried away, mumbling something about disinfecting yoga mats, and leaving him standing by the studio bathroom, wondering if he was missing something. Pushing that thought aside, he entered the bathroom and quickly changed into his date attire.

When he came back out into the yoga studio’s main room, it was to see Cas on his hands and knees furiously scrubbing at the spare yoga mats the teacher kept around for anyone who might forget their own or didn’t own one. The muscles on Cas’ arms bulged with effort as he attacked the sponge-y surface of a neon green mat with a cloth and disinfectant, though Dean wasn’t entirely sure if the dark frown on Cas’ handsome face was entirely due to his apparent mission to eradicate all the bacteria from his yoga mats or another issue. Not wanting to seem rude by just leaving, Dean cleared his throat to gain the instructor’s attention. 

Cas’ head twisted to the side as he realized he wasn’t alone in the room anymore, his face looked almost startled as he looked over to see him despite Dean’s efforts not to scare him.

“Dean, oh! I---forgot you were still here,” he said hurriedly, hopping to his feet and dropping the rag onto the ground. He smiled slightly, looking at Dean’s outfit; a pair of grey dress slacks matched with a blue shirt and light grey tie. “You look---uh---nice.”

Dean grinned, “Thanks, I guess I better get going then.” He paused before he turned to leave, remembering Cas earlier comment about himself. “And I wanted to say, thank you. You know, for the talk, it really helped me calm down.” Cas looked down at his shoes almost sheepishly and appeared to be getting ready to protest but Dean beat him to it. “I know you said you feel like you were ‘sticking your nose in’ but I for one am glad you did because I think I’ll be able to go on this date and not feel like I’m about to puke all over my blind date.”

This made Cas laugh. “I’m glad I could help,” he said, smiling slightly. When Dean failed to move, for some reason his legs didn’t want to carry him towards the door, Cas nodded towards the exit. “You might want to head out, wouldn’t want to keep your date waiting.”

Grinning a bit self consciously, Dean remembered that he really did need to get moving if he wanted to get to the restaurant. He told Cas goodnight, thanked him for the advice and confirmed that he would be back next week before heading out the door, leaving Cas standing in the studio. It wasn’t until he was at the restaurant, checking his hair in the rearview mirror of his car, that the thought occurred to him for a split second before he pushed it way; it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

It had to have been wishful thinking that, even though Cas had sounded upbeat and had been smiling as they’d said goodbye, those usually vibrant blue eyes seemed tinged with something like regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dadundun! What could Cas' look mean?
> 
> This chapter was actually shorter than I remembered; my brain pushed the next chapter and this one together. 
> 
> Okay regarding the updating schedule...  
> We have a bit of a tie, an equal amount of people want to keep things as is as those who want to go to bi-weekly updates so I'm going to post this chapter and hope that some more people express their opinions. Otherwise I'm going to have to flip a coin or something since I want to be fair.


	7. Then An Insightful Outing

For the second time that night, Dean Winchester was sitting in his car preparing to go into a building. This time however, instead of mentally preparing as he had been in the Bee Happy yoga studio parking lot, he was actually physically preparing himself for his blind date. 

He frowned critically at his reflection in the rear view mirror, running his fingers agitatedly through his somewhat messy hair; apparently it was possible to get yoga mat hair. Sighing with defeat and noting that if he didn't want to be late he needed to get into the restaurant, Dean decided that his normal perfectly coiffed hair just wasn’t possible. A sudden flash of inspiration had him running his fingers vigorously through his locks at random, creating a laid back but still socially acceptable hairstyle. It gave him a purposefully ruffled look that was certainly not borrowed from any yoga instructors. Finally feeling confident about his appearance, Dean exited the car and went inside the restaurant.

The hibachi restaurant was busier than he’d expected to be considering it was nine o’clock on a Thursday; several tables were full of people gawking at the various chefs’ abilities, clapping wildly at some of the routines. The flashing dance of cooking implements was a bit hypnotic so Dean was a bit shocked when a hand tapped him gently on the shoulder causing him to jump slightly.

“Apologies,” a tall blonde man said politely, his voice tinged with a slight accent that Dean couldn’t quite place, “I didn’t mean to startle you but I believe you might be my date; you are Dean Winchester, correct?”

Turning around, Dean saw the man was indeed the one from the photo Charlie had shown him. Balthazar was tall, lean and blonde and was sporting a devil may care smile that was more than a little charming; he offered his hand.

“Balthazar Angier,” he introduced himself cordially, shaking Dean’s hand in a pleasantly firm grip. Dean was a firm believer in the old tale that a person’s handshake said a lot about someone but that might be a side effect of working in business. “I must say Dean, if it’s not too forward, the photo Charlie showed me doesn’t do you justice.”

Dean smiled, slightly embarrassed by the praise considering it wasn’t something he heard very often. “Thank you,” he replied, “I could say the same to you.”

“Shall we find our table?” Balthazar asked, motioning towards the hostess station. “I reserved us a table in the regular dining area; I thought you might enjoy the quiet after working all day.”

“That sound great,” Dean agreed, feeling a strange sense of relief. While part of him was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t have the distraction of the chef acrobatics in the event the date went south, he knew Balthazar was right; not having to deal with a crowd of people would be awesome.

His date smiled and led the way to the hostess so they could get their table.

A half hour later, Dean was surprised to admit he was having a fantastic time. 

The art curator was an extremely interesting date. After the usual introductions, Balthazar seemed to sense Dean’s need to not carry the conversation for a minute so he regaled him with his stories of what life was like behind the scenes at fancy art museums, apparently it was much funnier than people would expect.

“I thought my lungs would explode,” Balthazar said, his face bright with amusement. “How could you not laugh? The man spent the whole of his lecture, his video recorded lecture, stroking the thigh of a statue of a nude woman; I don’t even think he was aware he was doing it.”

Dean laughed around a bite of food, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Wow, who knew that art lectures could be so risque?” he commented once he swallowed, attempting to sound serious but failing.

“Oh you’d be surprised, Dean,” Balthazar said smirking in a suggestive manner. “You should see what some of the curators get up to at the conferences. You’d never look at a museum the same again.” There was a pause as Balthazar took a sip of his drink. “But enough about the torrid affairs of the art world. Charlie tells me that you’ve recently taken up yoga.”

“Yes, I started a few months ago,” Dean admitted sheepishly. He still wasn’t too keen on people knowing that he did yoga. While he wasn’t completely obsessed with maintaining a super masculine image, the thought of people knowing that he spent one evening a week bending into strange shapes and essentially practicing breathing with a group comprised mostly of women was a bit embarrassing. 

Balthazar nodded. “You know, I’ve always been curious about yoga,” he said, looking genuinely interested. He was leaned forward with his hands folded on the table. “Have you been enjoying it?”

Without having to think on the question, Dean nodded and smiled. “Definitely, it’s physically intense sometimes but sort of in a relaxing way if that makes sense,” Dean replied, trying to put his feelings on yoga into words. His fingers toyed absently with the napkin next to his hand. “Cas is always going on about how physical activity is a form of meditation so that’s probably a good description.”

His date looked at him with a hint of curiosity. “Cas? Is she your instructor?” Balthazar asked.

“Oh, well yes and no,” Dean replied, pausing for a second to take a drink, “Yes to the instructor part but Castiel is actually a man. Though you wouldn’t be the first person to get it wrong; Cas told me that one time he put up flyers for a special Valentine’s day yoga session. It was supposed to be for people who didn’t have any plans that day so they could ‘cultivate a sense of self-love’ as he put it.”

“I sense there’s a but here somewhere,” Balthazar said, smirking slightly.

Dean laughed, smiling at his date. “Oh yeah,” he said, trying to continue his story without bursting out in snorts of amusement like he had when Cas had told him the story. “So Cas goes to teach the class and there are all these college guys in the room, hardly any women, and Cas being Cas just starts teaching the class. Well, all of the sudden one of the guys tells him to stop messing around and to wait for the teacher like the rest of them.”

“They thought they were going to come and ogle a woman,” the art curator correctly inferred. He was nodding in understanding. “I’ll bet they were more than a bit disappointed.”

“Well if they were, it was their loss, Cas is pretty damn attractive,” Dean said without thinking as he imagined the handsome grin Cas had been sporting while he’d told Dean about that amusing class. Realizing what he’d said, he flushed with embarrassment and immediately apologized. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

Balthazar raised his hands placatingly. “Think nothing of it,” he reassured a mortified Dean. His expression was one of amusement rather than offense. “One date does not mean we’re betrothed, Dean. We hadn’t even met before today; I can handle the fact you’ve looked at men before, I assure you.”

Feeling a bit better but with his cheeks still heated from his little slip up, Dean made a mental note to not talk about his crush with his blind date. Balthazar was a really nice guy and he was having fun. There were no hints that Balthazar was like Nick, wanting to jump his bones as soon as they finished dessert whether Dean was into it or not, and so far there were no gargantuan ex-boyfriends bursting in to threaten him with being beat within an inch of his life.

All in all this was shaping up to be a nice date.

“Thank you for that,” Dean said gratefully, happy to know that he didn’t just completely blow the first decent date he’d had in years. He smiled softly at the man across from him and was pleasantly surprised to have it returned. “Though I’m still a bit embarrassed.”

Balthazar patted him on the hand before resting his hand on the table near enough for their fingers to almost touch. Somewhere in the back of Dean’s mind, the part of him that watched trashy medical dramas when he had a spare minute, recognized this as a moment where he should feel sparks. “Then let’s talk about something else,” the blonde man offered, eyes twinkling, “How was your day?”

Rolling his eyes and waving a hand aimlessly in the air, Dean sighed.“Oh, it was the same as always,” he answered, shaking his head. “Dealing with outrageous demands from my bosses and working like a dog. Though Thursdays are generally better since I have my yoga class to look forward to.” Noticing a strange look on Balthazar’s face that Dean couldn’t quite interpret so he assumed was slight annoyance, he smiled charmingly and quickly added, “But today I had this to look forward to so the day flew by.”

This seemed to make Balthazar relax; Dean reasoned that Balthazar was feeling a bit put out by the unintentional implication that he was looking more forward to his weekly yoga class than for their date.

Taking up the ends of the briefly abandoned conversation, Balthazar leaned forward on the table and rested his cheek on one hand, his face the very image of an attentive date. “It sounds like your days are extremely busy.”

“Yeah, Charlie says the same thing,” Dean agreed with a nod, his fingers beginning to toy with his napkin again. “That’s why she sent me to Cas, she’s hoping that he can yoga me to a better stress level. Otherwise she says I’m going to work myself into an ulcer.”

“It’s good to hear your friend cares so much, so do you do meditation at home?” his date asked, once again showing what appeared to be a genuine concern for Dean’s well being, something that none of the other had done; it reminded him of Cas’ concerned looks from earlier that night when the instructor asked how he was feeling. “I’ve heard that meditating for a few minutes each day can drastically help stress levels.”

“I think I read that somewhere too,” Dean agreed, “I’ve tried ever since I started taking classes with Cas but my brain is just too busy for it.”

Balthazar chuckled lightly, his eyes meeting Dean’s. “Ah an intelligent man, intelligence is very sexy in my opinion,” he said with a delicate hint of predatoriness that Dean used as a gauge to show things were going well. If Balthazar was looking at him like that, there was definitely some sexual attraction there. “It’s hard to believe that that’s a bad thing but I suppose I can understand; when I have a new exhibit to put together, I sometimes don’t sleep for days.”

They shared a laugh over their shared need for perfection and its ability to invade their lives. It was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one who had this problem though he was surprised that Charlie would set him up with someone who could quite possibly enable his bad habit of overworking himself. Maybe she thought that he and Balthazar would help each other break that tendency, like two negatives that make a positive.

“That happens to me when I have a big project,” Dean said, wiping at the laughter induced dampness around his eyes. “Unfortunately those are the only kind of projects i seem to have anymore. My boss seems to think that hard work should be rewarded with more work.

His date seemed to find this sentiment amusing. “Then you’ll definitely have to take up meditation,” Balthazar responded. His hand inched forward again so that his fingertips brushed Dean’s ever so slightly, “Or find some other ways to relax.”

So there was the another hint a sexual attraction Dean had been waiting for. This time though he found that he wasn’t almost instantly repulsed like had been with Nick. His mind made note of the fact that the Balthazar wasn’t being pushy; he was merely putting the offer on the table to see if Dean was interested. It was a gesture he appreciated, especially after his recent dates.

Needing to say something or risk falling into an awkward silence all because Dean was too busy analyzing Balthazar’s tactics for suggesting a sexual component to their date, he said the first thing that came to mind. “Charlie says that Cas teaches some classes specifically on meditation; she thinks i should take them,” he said, his fingers twitching away from Balthazar’s accidentally. Balthazar immediately pulled his hand back into neutral territory, probably assuming that Dean wasn’t interested. “I told her no but I guess since so far the only time I’ve been able to sit still and meditate was a class, maybe I should.”

Before he or Balthazar could say anything else, the waitress stopped to check with them and see if they wanted the bill. Dean glanced discreetly at his watch and saw that it was getting a bit late. He watched as Balthazar paid for their meal, compiling all the information he knew about Balthazar. 

Balthazar was a nice guy; he was smart, funny and seemed genuinely interested in what Dean had to say, not to mention he understood Dean’s drive to always provide his best work and was definitely attracted to him. All of these qualities seemed to add up to someone who might make decent Dom.

The only problem is he wasn’t really feeling anything.

There were no shivers and tingles at all when they touched; when Balthazar had touched his hand all he’d felt was the warmth of human contact. It wasn’t like when Cas touched him, when he touched him he was hyper aware of Balthazar’s skin on his. 

Maybe it was because he and Balthazar hadn’t touched enough. 

_Yeah, that’s probably it_ , he thought to himself as he and the blonde man stood up to leave. _I haven’t been with anyone in so long, it’s like my body doesn’t even realize what’s going on._ Dean thought back on the few innuendos that Balthazar had let slip and the heated gazes he’d sent his way. _Maybe all I have to do is just go for it. A good roll in the sack might get me back in the groove._

Decision made, Dean put his jacket on and followed Balthazar out of the restaurant, trying to figure out how to go about signaling back that he didn’t want the night to end just yet. Once they were outside Balthazar, turned to him and smiled.

“I had a fantastic time tonight, Dean,” he said, hands in his pockets. He was looking down slightly almost as if he were shy. Dean had expected Balthazar to slide into his personal space and offer to take them back to his place but then, maybe he’d been watching too many crappy tv dramas. Then he remembered how Balthazar had reacted to his involuntary twitch earlier in the night and it dawned on him, Balthazar didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

Okay, Dean guessed that meant he had to make the first move.

He took a step forward, well into Balthazar’s space; he could smell the fancy cologne his date wore and hints of the after dinner mints on his breath. “Yeah, I had a great time too,” Dean said, acting a bit coy, looking at Balthazar through his eyelashes, “Doesn’t have to be over yet though. I could show you the fringe benefits of doing yoga, if you wanted.”

Deciding to go for broke, Dean stepped even closer so that their groins touched briefly, smirking seductively as he did. He expected Balthazar to pull him closer, maybe even move in to kiss him.

What he didn’t expect was for Balthazar to sigh deeply and push him away. 

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, feeling a little confused and a lot of embarrassment. His cheeks were practically on fire as he shot backwards out of Balthazar’s space, unable to look him directly in the face. “I thought...that you wanted me. I’m sorry.”

He looked up as Balthazar chuckled quietly; it was almost a rueful sound but still sounded polite and suave coming from him. “I find you ridiculously attractive, Dean,” Balthazar said. He paused to raise Dean’s downturned head up so he could look him in the eye. His expression was not unkind and held a hint of disappointment but Dean didn’t think it was directed at him. “But I don’t think _you_ actually want _me_.”

“I think you’re attractive too,” Dean argued, confusion settling over him. He just didn’t understand what he’d done wrong; the signs had been there, he was sure of it. Sticking his hands in his jacket pockets somewhat defensively, he asked, “How does that translate into me not wanting you?”

Balthazar appeared to think for a second before responding. “I am blessed with the gift of being able to read people extremely well,” he explained, taking his hand away from Dean’s face and taking a small step back so there was a decent amount of space between them. “I can tell that you do think I’m attractive and I’m flattered, believe me, but I think there someone else you want more. Someone you are even more attracted to and probably already have feelings for.”

Now Dean was even more confused. What was Balthazar talking about?

“Who are you talking about?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer. They’ve only know each other for a few hours, what kind of insight could this guy have about him in that amount of time?

Rolling his eyes and smiling, Balthazar answered, “That yoga instructor of course, this Castiel of yours.” When Dean didn’t say anything he continued, “Dean, you spent most of our date singing the man’s praises and just generally mentioning your yoga teacher and the way you look at me pales pitifully in comparison of how you lit up while you talked about him.”

Dean’s head fell backward as he sighed. “Am I really that obvious?” he asked sheepishly. It couldn’t be a good thing if a man he’d just met could suss out that he had a crush on his yoga instructor. 

Laughing lowly, Balthazar patted him reassuringly on the arm. “Just a bit, darling,” he answered in an amused tone. Dean lowered his gaze and gave the man a grateful smile; the art curator was taking what amounted to a rejection with a decent amount of grace. “I have to say though, you really are quite adorable with how you gush about the man. Does he know? Or is this an unrequited love as he attached to someone else?”

“Oh, no. As far as I’m aware, he’s single,” Dean answered, feeling a weight lifting off his chest as he talked about his crush with his date (an odd state of affairs if he really thought about it). Talking with Charlie about Cas was always a tricky situation since she always wanted to immediately set them up despite Dean protests. Balthazar appeared to be interested in listening without comment, something Dean hadn’t realized he’d needed until that moment. 

“If I’m not overstepping, then why don’t you just ask the man out?” Balthazar asked, languidly leaning against the wall of the restaurant. Groups of people walked past them, laughing as they exited the hibachi place and disappearing into the darkened parking lot. “He sounds like quite the catch; you don’t want to miss out.”

Dean sighed and walked over to join his date. “Well, he just seems so put together,” he admitted, twiddling his thumbs distractedly. He looked up to see Balthazar staring at him with a thoughtful expression. “I mean, I’m a work-obsessed stress out mess and he’s all calm, collected and perfect; what could I possibly offer him besides crappy dates when I have two minutes that I’m not working and second hand stress?”

“Well, I know that we’ve just met and my opinion means absolutely nothing to you,” the blonde man said stepping away from the wall and meeting Dean’s gaze. “But I think you’re looking at your qualities in a skewed light. From what I’ve learned from talking with Charlie and yourself, you are a hard-working and dedicated man who will do what it is in his power to accomplish a job; an aspect of your personality I believe would transfer easily over to your romantic endeavors. That sounds like a very appealing quality in a man.” Here he paused to chuckle lightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Actually, I can assure you it is; I was certainly drawn in by it.”

They laughed together for a bit and Dean considered Balthazar’s words.

Maybe he should give into Charlie’s pleading and let her set him up. His friend claimed that Cas had expressed interesting in going out with him but Dean had always assumed that she was just fudging the truth to get him to agree. If Balthazar wasn’t just blowing smoke up his ass, well…

“You know, Balthazar, maybe you’re right,” Dean said, shifting himself up and off the wall so he could stand in front of Balthazar who was smiling smugly at being told he was correct. “Maybe I should just ask Cas out, at least that way I would know.”

Balthazar patted him on the shoulder jovially. “That’s the spirit, Dean,” he replied cheerfully as he clapped Dean on the arm. “I have a feeling you won’t be disappointed; you’re quite the catch yourself you know.” There was a muffled pinging sound that caused the him to jump. “Oh, damn, that’s probably my boss.”

It was then that Dean realized how long they had been standing in front of restaurant talking; most of the cars in the parking lot were gone. He still needed to go home and answer a few emails and it sounded like Balthazar might have things required his attention.

“Wow, I didn’t realize how late it was,” Dean said, feeling more than a bit awkward for eating up so much of Balthazar’s time considering he was essentially rejecting the guy and then blabbing his personal problems to him to boot. “I’ve taken enough of your time. I should really get going.”

“Oh, think nothing of it, Dean,” Balthazar assured him, patting him on the arm again. “You’ve given me a perfectly pleasant evening and I thank you for that. It’s been too long since I’ve had dinner with an interesting and devilishly handsome man.”

Dean smiled and flushed slightly. Even though he knew that they weren’t going to pursue anything the man seemed unable to turn off the charm. “Well, I still want you to thank you and apologize for wasting your time,” he reiterated, sticking out his hand to shake which Balthazar did with a grin. “You’re a great guy too, Balthazar; I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Balthazar laughed as he took his hand back, wrapping his jacket more firmly around himself. “I’d wish you the same, Dean,” he said as they finally started walking towards the parking lot. “But I suspect that you already have.”

Once they reached the point they had to separate to find their own cars, Balthazar gave Dean his number with instructions to call him if he ever wanted to meet up again; apparently the art curator was eager to find out if things turned out. Dean returned the favor by offering one of his business cards along with an invitation for coffee some day. After another exchange of handshakes, they parted ways.

Getting into his car, Dean started the engine but before he started to drive he pulled out his phone and sent a text to a certain red-headed sex shop owner.

_To Charlie: Hey, were you serious about Cas being interested in going out sometime?_

It was extremely late by the time Dean finally let himself into his apartment. The rational part of his mind scolded him for being out so late; getting up for work the next day was going to be a real bitch but Dean couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was going to try to go out with Cas.

Kicking off his shoes and setting down his bag, he wandered over to the couch and proceeded to boot up his laptop. There were a few emails he knew he had better take care of tonight since it was highly likely his mind wouldn’t be quite up to par tomorrow, what with being out so late. The welcome screen had just appeared on his computer when his phone rang loudly.

Grinning as he imagined all the shouting, squealing and declarations of ‘I told you so’s he was about to hear, he reached for the device. Expecting to see Charlie’s name on the screen, Dean was immediately put on edge when he saw who was calling.

_Z. Adler_

His stomach twisted as he weighed the pros and cons of answering. On one hand he could not answer since it was well past normal working hours and no one would blame him for not wanting to talk to his boss; hell, it was possible he could be in bed already but…

On the other hand, Zachariah almost never called him and never this late; whatever he wanted could be important. With all the hints at promotion that he had been witnessing, now wasn’t the time to be rocking the boat.

Resigned to his fate, Dean huffed a sigh and hit ‘answer’

“Winchester,” he said, trying to find a delicate balance between being polite but also letting enough tiredness to seep in so he could politely indicate how late it was.

“Ah, Winchester! Burning the midnight oil are we?” his boss’s nasally voice issued loudly from the receiver making Dean wince. “That’s good, very good. We need more enterprising young men like you.”

“Um...thank you, sir,” Dean answered awkwardly. His boss hardly ever complimented him and it instantly put him on edge. “Not to be rude but, what can I help you with?”

Zachariah clicked his tongue, chiding him. “Now, if you’re going to be a hotshot in this business, Winchester, you need to learn the art of finesse.” Dean could practically feel the condescension through the phone. “You have to treat every phone call like a big sale, well except when you’re talking to a secretary or something. You gotta schmooze, you understand?”

Grimacing at the lecture, Dean rubbed at his eyes; they felt gritty and dry from being tired. “Of course, that is very sound advice,” he said, attempting to sound grateful when all he wanted to do was find out what the hell this guy wanted so he could go to bed. “I’ll make sure to remember it.”

“Make sure that you do,” his boss intoned seriously, making Dean’s nerves fray just a bit more. The calm and happy feelings that he’d been able to cultivate over the course of his dinner with Balthazar was slowly being eaten away by the toxic sludge issuing from the phone. “Now I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m calling so late…”

_Gee you think_ , Dean thought as he rubbed frustratedly at his face. _What was your first clue? Couldn’t have been when I_ fucking _asked you?!_

“...I wanted to give you a heads up on my phone call with the Stevenson people.”

Dean perked up, his back straightening, at this. He’d actually been waiting anxiously to hear about how his report had gone over.

Due to his large workload, Zachariah had to handle the actual Q and A with the group of people that were sent to hear his proposal. He’d been able to give the presentation but had been forced to leave for another meeting so he’d also had to train his boss on the particulars of his idea so Balthazar could answer any questions. 

A process which had been so grueling, Dean had wanted to tear his hair out but now it was quite possible that all his hard work would pay off.

“They liked the presentation,” Alder began, not waiting for Dean to say anything. His voice was fairly neutral so he couldn’t try to glean any information from it. 

Dean didn’t care though. The Stevenson group had liked his presentation, that small phrase almost made up for all the long hours of work and stress he’d experienced over that account and caused his to punch the air silently in triumph. Once they accepted his proposal, it would be almost smooth sailing from here on---

“But they felt the proposal as still a bit weak in some places,” Zachariah continued, his tone just as blase as ever. It was like they were discussing what kind of copier to buy for the office, not the fact that the Stevenson group didn’t approve of the proposal that Dean had been working on for months. “I hate to say it but I have to agree with them. There were some major holes in that proposal, Dean. How did you miss them?”

Holes...in his proposal…

Fire and ice warred in the pit of Dean’s stomach; fear that he’d ruined everything by not working harder on this important project and rage that Zachariah, _who had approved the proposal in the first place_ , suddenly agreed that there were major problems with it. He fought the desire to through his phone across the room; though he suspected that watching it smash into pieces would have made him feel much better. The desire, and his temper, rose even further as his boss continued to speak.

“Now luckily I was able to talk them into giving us another shot,” Alder continued, sounding beyond full of himself for ‘saving’ the day. “They agreed to sit for another proposal. Now I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that we’ll need to do a complete overhaul of the proposal. You’ll really need to buckle down.”

Buckle down? Buckle? Down?

Dean’s mind short circuited at this. What the fuck did his boss think he’d been doing all this time? Did he think that he was spending over ten hours a day at the office just because he enjoyed being at his desk? That he’d already abandoned his ill conceived plan to go home for a visit because he wanted to stay at work and slack off some more?

“Sir, I can assure you that I--” he started to protest but before he could get the words out, that grating voice cut him off.

“Now, now, don’t get bent out of shape, kiddo,” Zachariah chuckled, the sound only adding to the fiery blaze that had taken up residence in Dean’s body. “I know that sometimes it’s hard to muster the patience needed for a long term project like this but you’ll get there some day; think of this as a learning experience.”

So angry that he almost wanted to throw up or something to that effect, Dean took a deep breath. It took more effort than he wanted to contemplate to not shout. “Of course,” he agreed politely but even he could hear the slight edge of anger to his voice. “I will keep that in mind, sir.”

“See that you do,” Zachariah said in that self-important drawl. Dean was vaguely aware that if he gripped his phone any tighter, it might break. “So, first thing tomorrow morning I want you in my office and we’re going to sit down and I’ll help you see where you went wrong with this, sound good?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean managed to say, sounding almost perfectly calm even though it felt as if his skin was going to burst into flames any second. He needed the phone call to end before he did anything stupid.

His boss hummed distractedly, the bastard wasn’t even really paying attention. “Good, good,” he said, “See you tomorrow then, Winchester.”

Dean didn’t even attempt to say anything because, as expected, the line went dead as soon as Zachariah was done speaking. He huffed a sigh of relief and very deliberately set his phone down on the coffee table in an effort to combat the desire to chuck it into a wall; his breathing was heavy and his hands were shaking as rage suffused every part of his body. All he wanted to do was go hit something extremely hard again and again and again; anything to allow an outlet for this frustration.

Suddenly he found himself imagining a deep calm voice.

_Remember your breathing, Dean_ , Cas’ gravel toned voice rumbled in his mind, _Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out...feel the negative influences in your life leave as you exhale and inhale the positive…_

To his amazement, Dean began to breathe in time with imaginary Cas’ prompting and he felt the hot sickening anger seeping away. The man was calming him down and he wasn’t even in the room. He slumped back into the couch, his limbs feeling like noodles after being tense for so long, when the phone pinged again; he froze, eyeing the device warily but confirmed that it was only a text as the device fell silent soon after.

Eventually curiosity won out and he picked it up, praying to any deity that was listening that it wasn’t a text from his boss.

_From Charlie: OH MY SPOCK!! SERIOUSLY??!! OF COURSE, OF COURSE!! I WILL HELP YOU SET IT UP!!!! :) :) :) I’LL CALL YOU WITH THE DETAILS :D :D :D_

Dean couldn’t help but laugh. Between his weird yoga breathing session with his imaginary yoga instructor and Charlie’s ecstatic text reminding him of his decision, he was able to push his horrible phone call with Zachariah to the back of his mind. In fact he was feeling almost chipper.

He was going to go on a date with Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're moving in the right direction!!!
> 
> I had a hard time coming up with a last name for Balthazar and I'm pretty sure I settled on Angier because I was watching "The Prestige" the day I wrote most of it. I love that movie :)
> 
> And I've totaled up the votes and it looks like we'll be staying on the regular schedule with this one too. The good news is I have 4 chapters left so that's at a month's worth of time for me to bust a move and get some more chapters done.


	8. Which Resulted In A Long Awaited Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drum-roll please.....here's long awaited the date :D

Dean sat in the booth at one of the many bars in the city, wondering just how he’d gotten here.

Three days ago he was on a date with an art curator in an attempt to forget about his fantasies of dating his hot as hell yoga teacher, a date that ended up with Balthazar giving him relationship advice regarding said yoga teacher. Now he was sitting in a bar waiting for Castiel. 

For an actual real life date.

When he’d texted Charlie that night from his car asking whether she’d been serious about Cas being interested in a date, Dean had apparently had no clue how fast his friend operated. After he’d received her text confirming that she would talk to the yoga teacher, he’d figured he would have to wait for about a week until things were ready. What he did not expect was a text from Charlie the next day that said he was to meet Cas at the Prancing Pony at eight on Sunday. 

In an attempt to distract his anxious mind about the impending date, Dean pulled out his phone an nervously scrolled through the text conversation with Charlie. Just to make sure he hadn’t miss read the day and time.

_From Charlie: Okay, I talked to your man crush. He asked if you wanted to meet at the Prancing Pony Sunday at 8 :)_

_To Charlie: Sure, that sounds okay. Tell him I’ll meet him there next Sunday._

_From Charlie: Noooo, he means this Sunday, as in like two days_

_From Charlie: Are you sure you’re ready for this? I can tell him you can’t and try and set something later_

_To Charlie: No, that’s fine, just sooner than I’d thought_

_From Charlie: Weeeellll, I may have pushed for an early date_

_From Charlie: But it’s just so you don’t drive yourself nuts thinking too much; we both know you have problems keeping that brain of yours in check_

_From Charlie: You’re not mad at me are you? I’m just trying to help so pretty please don’t be mad… :(_

_To Charlie: No, I’m not mad. Tell Cas I’ll meet him on Sunday_

_From Charlie: YAAAAAY! I’ll totally do that right now!! I’m sooo excited for you :D :D :D_

The rest of the conversation consisted of Charlie sending text after text checking up on and asking him questions though mostly the checking up ones. It seemed that she considered him a flight risk or thought that he would try and come up with an excuse to back out. She hadn’t needed to bother because Dean was here.

Though there had been a moment just before he left the apartment when he’d considered using the Stevenson account and all its issues as a way to avoid going.

In his defense, he really did need to work on the project since it had something ‘wrong’ with it according to his smug boss. Zachariah had sent several emails regarding the project’s shortcomings in addition to the disheartening phone call on Thursday night, something that had truly shocked him considering his boss was notorious for not doing any work on Friday afternoons and weekends; how the man had become head of a department, Dean would never know. He’d actually had a text written out which told Charlie that something had come up at work and he wouldn’t be able to go when he’d actually looked at his computer.

The sight of his overfull inbox and the open email from Zachariah, filled with numerous bright red comments inserted all over his proposal, reminded him just how sick he was of work. Even if the date turned into a horrible mess like the first two blind dates Charlie had set him up on, it would have to be better than working on that depressing mess. 

_Besides,_ he’d thought to himself as he deleted the text before leaving for his date, _I already know for a fact that Cas is a good guy. This will_ not _be like the others._

“Hello, Dean,” Cas’ voice suddenly cut through his recollections causing him to jump in his seat and look up. 

Cas was standing next to the table, a smile curling the edges of his mouth and his eyes glinting with amusement. Dressed in a pair of well worn and soft looking jeans, a dark blue t-shirt and a leather jacket, his outfit was the complete antithesis of the usual muscle shirt and workout pants that Dean was used to seeing on Cas. Which was a good thing since Dean was having an extremely hard time keeping his staring, and drooling, to himself and at a minimum.

If Cas looked like the embodiment of hot in his yoga gear, he was sex on a stick in his street clothes.

“H-hey, Cas,” Dean said, hands fumbling to turn off the screen of his phone while he attempted to stand up. This resulted in him kneeing the tabletop enough to shake the napkin holder and food specials display rattle. 

_Well this is going to go well,_ he thought bitterly to himself as his face heated. _Why don’t you trip and fall on your face too?_

“There’s no need to be nervous, Dean,” Cas reassured him in that calm way he had. He gestured for him to sit before stipping off his jacket, revealing those well defined arms that Dean had become a great admirer of, and sliding gracefully into the other side of the booth. “You’ve met me before; I can assure you that my personality doesn’t change drastically from inside the yoga studio to outside it.”

Dean’s fingers twisted together agitatedly, an attempt to get the internal struggle of him mind out of him. “I’m sure it doesn’t,” he replied, “I guess I am nervous.”

Cas smiled and it made his blue eyes brighten even more. “Well we can’t have that, can we?” he said, folding his hands on the table. “So why don’t we pretend for a little while that this isn’t a date, that we just happened to run into each other after yoga class? To help take some of the pressure off.”

Oddly enough, that idea seemed to have some merit. Dean had slowly gotten used to talking to Cas over the few months he’d been practicing at the studio; hell, he’d been able to open up about his embarrassing date fiascos the other day just fine. Maybe all he needed to do to stop his heart from beating sickeningly fast was to stop trying to talk to Cas the Date and stick with what he knew.

“That actually sounds really great,” Dean answered. He could feel a bit of the tension slipping out of his muscles and he was able to sit back against the soft surface of the booth for the first time since arriving. Breathing deep, he returned the smile, “I just feel kind of awkward, having to have Charlie set me up all the time. Usually it’s not so bad since I’ve only just met the guy but I know you and I figure you’d think I’m like, pathetic or something, for needing help.”

His mind flashed unwillingly to that second date with Nick and being told that he was obviously ‘out of practice’ and sad. In fact, if memory served, there may have even been a barb about needing help getting dates. He was somewhat ashamed that the asshole’s words had stuck with him like that but then, Dean was vaguely aware that his brain liked to latch onto negative criticism and bring it back up at the worst opportunity.

The calm and open expression on Cas’ face sobered as he listened and Dean feared that he had stumbled upon something but what he said next surprised him. “I don’t know who put ideas like that in your head, Dean,” he said, gazing at Dean intently, “But there is nothing strange about meeting people through friends. Anyone who believes that is an idiot.”

As always, Cas managed to reassure Dean and make him realize that he was being stupid but not in a way that made him feel stupid. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say in response to this kindness but luckily he was saved from coming up with a response by the arrival of their waitress; she gave them menus and listed off the specials before taking their drink orders, a beer for Dean and one for Cas to his surprise, before disappearing again.

Dean’s confusion must have shown on his face because Cas asked, “Is there something wrong? Did you want to change your order?”

“No, no,” Dean answered quickly, feeling the ever lurking flush creep back into place. At some point he was going to be able to talk to Cas without blushing, right? “I just---well, I guess I just assumed since you were a yoga instructor and all that you didn’t drink beer and stuff.” He paused, realizing how rude that sounded. “Shit, that sounds awful. I didn’t mean it like you’re an alien or something.”

This pulled a laugh out of Cas and he grinned which did funny things to Dean’s insides because he looked so handsome. “That’s alright,” Cas replied, waving his elegant hand dismissively. “I’m perfectly aware of the ‘normal things’ that a good portion of yoga practitioners tend to follow but being vegan, only drinking certain kinds of alcohol, or subscribing to the latest health craze just isn’t for me.” There was a lull in the conversation as the waitress brought their drinks; she left after Dean requested a few more minutes to decide on their orders. “Anyway, to summarize my earlier point, I happen to love eating cheeseburgers and drinking beer just as much as I love doing yoga. The two things don’t need to be mutually exclusive.”

Dean sipped his drink and laughed quietly. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, starting to really feel relaxed, “Because I’m starting to realize I really like yoga but I don’t think I could give up my junk food and beer for it.”

“I’m not going to lie and say that eating healthier plus doing yoga doesn’t make you feel better,” Cas chuckled, drinking from his own glass. Dean was momentarily distracted by Cas’ tongue flicking out to clean the film of foam from his upper lip before internally reminding himself to pay attention. “But I know that I prefer a balance of healthy eating along with some decidedly not healthy treats.”

“I can drink to that,” Dean agreed, holding his mug up which Cas tapped with his own. “So how did you even get into yoga anyway?”

The conversation flowed on easily from that point. They ordered their food, nice big juicy burgers with fries, and while they were waiting, Cas regaled him with the tale of how he became a yoga instructor. 

Apparently Cas had always been naturally flexible but actually took up yoga to help with stress. He had been going to school to be a physician’s assistant; his parents had wanted him to be a doctor but Cas didn’t think it was for him so his choice was a compromise on both sides. It soon became apparent though that Cas wasn’t doing well; all the constant stress of going through pre-med was starting to affect his health. He’d experience horrible headaches and his stomach was constantly tied into knots.

“I was extremely miserable almost all the time,” Cas admitted without reservation. He didn’t seem to have any problem talking to Dean about personal matters; an observation that made Dean feel somewhat special.

One day while walking around campus trying to clear his head enough to write a paper, Cas had stumbled upon an outdoor yoga club. In a fit of desperation, he had just joined in. That first class hadn’t been his more productive since he was in his jeans, t-shirt and sneakers and had no mat but just the simple breathing practice at the end of the session gave him so much relief that he went to the teacher afterwards and signed up.

“After that it was a natural road that lead to me changing my major to focus on holistic medicine,” Cas concluded, pausing to take a long draught from his mug, “My parents were of course a bit disappointed that I only became a ‘hippie doctor’ as they put it but once I started the yoga studio, they were content in telling their friends about their son the business man; so it all worked out in the end I suppose.”

“So what sort of education does a ‘hippie doctor’ have?” Dean asked, fascinated by his date’s story. The idea that someone would almost completely change their career in order to pursue something they loved boggled his mind.

Cas paused to think, looking upward as if digging around in the file cabinets of his brain. “Well, I didn’t really complete a doctorate for being a hippie doctor,” he answered as he tallied on his fingers. “But I have an Associate’s degree in massage, a Master’s in nutrition, midwifery and acupuncture and of course I’m certified as a yoga instructor.”

Dean plucked a fry off his plate and was about to pop it in his mouth when he paused. “So wait, you can deliver babies?!” he asked, wondering if he heard that wrong. It was hard to imagine the man in front of him helping a woman give birth. “Like, really?”

“I don’t do that very often but yes,” Cas said, smiling at Dean’s awed reaction to this information. He drained the last of his beer before elaborating. “Usually only for home births with women who have had pregnancies without complications and most have already had given birth at home already.”

Unable to contain his admiration for the fact the man sitting across from him had helped bring tiny babies into the world, Dean blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Holy shit, Cas. You’re freaking amazing.” 

To his surprise, this caused Cas to blush and look down bashfully at his plate. It was quite frankly adorable and Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“Like I said, I don’t assist with births very often,” Cas explained, still appearing a little embarrassed by Dean’s praise. He toyed with the remaining fries on his plate before looking back up at Dean and smiling. “It’s an amazing thing to be sure and a useful skill to have but I prefer to focus on my yoga and on my massage therapy.”

“Well, I for one am glad you do,” Dean said, “I would probably be a heap of stressed out goo if it weren’t for your yoga class.”

They shared a laugh for a minute before Cas suddenly perked up as if he remembered something. “Oh, I spent this whole time talking about myself,” he said apologetically though Dean argued that it was fine, “No, I’ve always been curious as to what you do for a living, Dean. Charlie says you have a very intense job.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s intense, more like a pain,” Dean answered, trying to keep upbeat about his shitty job. A date wasn’t the time to be complaining that his boss was a complete jackass and his work was slowly driving him insane; that wasn’t at least until second date or something. “But working in business is never really a fun job so I sort of knew what I was getting into; it just gets frustrating. Charlie is always giving me lectures about it.”

Cas cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. “Um, yes. I wasn’t going to mention it but when Charlie called to set up your classes,” he said hesitantly, probably fearing to be discovered revealing one of the feisty red head’s secrets, “She may have...gone on a teeny rant about the evils of corporations.”

Dean just laughed, glad to hear that he’d not the only one subjected to Charlie’s firm views on certain things. “Oh yeah, I’ve heard that before and every time I remind her that I need a job,” he assured that other man, letting him know that he wasn’t offended in anyway. “If I had a dollar for every time she harangued me about being a corporate drone, I wouldn’t need to be a corporate drone.”

The waitress appeared, asking if they wanted dessert. Cas asked if Dean would want to get some ice cream after a walk which he agreed to eagerly. So they told the waitress they would just like the check. There was of course the obligatory argument over who would pay, a fight Dean won under the justification that he was the one to kind of sort of ask Cas out; he conceded grudgingly but warned that he would be paying for the ice cream.

Once the bill was paid and a tip left for their waitress, they both put their coats on and left the bar. Dean paused outside the bar, waiting to see where Cas was going to lead them. A strong sense of excitement settled over him which was strange since all they were doing was going for a walk. Cas grabbed Dean by the arm and led him down the street; to Dean’s private joy, Cas didn’t immediately release him as they walked leisurely down the sidewalk. 

There was a slight chill in the air and Dean used that to justify Cas’ desire to be pressed against him. It had to be that, right?

“I’ve always enjoyed taking walks at this time of night,” Cas said as they walked; he was looking slightly upward as they went, looking somewhat intently. “The only thing I don’t like about living in the city is I can’t see any stars at night.”

Dean looked up while they stood at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. Of course the sky was inky black, any stars being drowned out by the bright city lights but he could imagine it. Back home in South Dakota, stars in the nighttime sky were a fact of life so the lack of them when he’d moved to the city had been a bit jarring. He wasn’t sure when he’d stopped noticing they weren’t there.

“Yeah, I liked looking at them sometimes when I was a kid,” Dean replied absentmindedly, still slightly lost in his memories. “But then I guess that’s one of the prices I pay for living here.”

The light turned and they continued their walk. “I’ve lived most of my life in cities,” Cas admitted as they drew closer to a small ice cream shop. “It wasn’t until I started getting serious about my yoga teacher training and started attending workshops that were held out in nature that I got to see my first real glimpse of stars.” He paused before continuing in a wistful tone. “They were amazing.”

_Maybe someday I’ll take you out where there are stars_ , Dean thought to himself before chasing the idea away. They were only on their first date and Dean was not only planning for a future date but a sappy romantic stargazing date at that.

They entered the store and stood in line discussing what kind of ice cream they wanted; there were quite a few flavors to choose from. Dean elected to get a cone of chocolate peanut butter while Cas got strawberry. As promised back at the bar, Cas paid for their dessert.

Neither of them talked much as they walked slowly back to the bar, much slower than when they’d been walking in the opposite direction. Cas’ shoulder brushed his quite often and Dean chose to take that as a good sign.

Of course the only problem with their near silent trip back to the bar was the fact that this left a lot of room for Dean’s mind to start over analyzing everything that had happened over the course of his date with Cas. 

Because that was extremely helpful for his nerves.

Cas seemed to be having a good time; Dean had made him laugh several times during their dinner and on the walk to the the ice cream shop. The skeptical part of his mind dismissed this fact with the argument that Cas was obviously just being nice, that all the pleasant smiles and kind words were just runoff from his nice yoga instructor exterior. Cas wasn’t _really_ interested in dating him; he was just being nice to his student.

This last thought caused Dean’s burger and ice cream to spin uncomfortably in his stomach as he wonder just how many students Cas had dated. Dean figured the attractive yoga teacher received numerous invitations to dinner by the myriad of students that took his classes. What if Cas said yes not to hurt anyone’s feelings before taking them on a date and letting them down easy?

“I can feel the wheels in your head turning, Dean,” Cas suddenly said, bringing the whirling dervish that was Dean’s brain to a halt. He looked over to see Cas looking at him with concern. “Is there something on your mind?”

Dean’s first instinct was to lie, to tell Cas that his mind had just wandered for a minute, but there was something about the way posed the question that compelled him to answer honestly. He suspected it was the air of concern paired with the lack of pressure; Cas had a tendency to give off the impression that he wasn’t going to force him to answer but he was more than happy to listen if he did.

“I was just wondering why you’d choose to go out with me,” Dean admitted, deciding to go with an approximation of the truth. Cas tilted his head in confusion so he elaborated. “You’re a fantastic person, I mean you can deliver babies for crying out loud, and you’ve probably got all sorts of offers for dates with people who are more on your level. So I was trying to figure out why you’d agree to a date with a neurotic corporate stooge like me?”

Cas turned to look at him, sharp blue eyes staring at him as if trying to decode Dean’s entire being down to the molecular level. The gaze was so intense, Dean almost felt like he couldn’t breathe but the baffling thing was that he wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, he was so hypnotized by the look that he missed what Cas said and had to ask him to repeat himself.

“I said,” he repeated cordially, “It sounds like you think that I do this sort of thing often. Date my students that is.” He didn’t sound offended or upset, at the most he was mildly curious.

Swallowing hard, Dean reluctantly nodded. There didn’t seem to be any point in lying, Cas had sniffed out his problem in less than a minute. “It may have crossed my mind,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before hurriedly adding, “But I don’t mean it in a bad way, I promise!”

Taking a bite of his ice cream, Cas nodded; he still looked unaffected by what he probably assumed was Dean’s assumption that he was picking up students at his studio. “Alright then, I think I know how to solve this issue,” he said, “Dean, you are the first student I have ever gone on a date with; actually come to think of it, you’re the only student I’ve even entertained the thought of going on a date with."

“Really?” Dean asked, searching Cas’ face for any tell tale signs of a lie. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better or something?”

Cas shook his head and gestured for them to keep walking; it was then that Dean noticed they’d been stopped in the middle of the sidewalk for quite sometime. Luckily it was getting pretty late so there weren’t many people. “No, I’m not lying to make you feel better,” Cas answered as they got closer to the bar. “I’ve never been interested in asking any of my students out on a date but with you, well, I was tempted even before Charlie made it known that you returned my interest.”

Dean looked at him, scrutinizing that distractingly handsome face for any trace of a lie. Working in the business world, Dean had learned very quickly it paid to know when people weren’t being honest so he’d made himself learn the myriad of facial tics and expression someone made when they lied. True these mostly varied person to person but he didn’t see any of them on Cas’ face and, most important of all, he didn’t get any feeling in the back of his mind that he was being lied to.

His heartbeat sped up slightly as he realized Cas wasn’t here just to be polite; he really was interested in Dean.

They arrived at the bar, which was still busy if not even more so due to the later hour, and they stood outside in the light pouring from the windows. The soft glow did fantastic things to Cas’ face, brightening his eyes and highlighting his strong jaw, which in turn made Dean’s insides feel hot and tingly. 

“So have I put all your fears to rest, Dean?” Cas asked, a small smile tugging at those enticing lips. The smile grew slightly as Dean, and obviously Cas, realized he was staring and found he had to force his gaze away. “I’ll take the lack of response as a yes.”

Blinking rapidly to help himself focus on something other than how badly he wanted to feel that mouth on him, Dean met Cas’ amused gaze and grinned. “Yeah, I guess I’ve kind of been letting my worries get the better of me tonight,” he admitted abashedly, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. “I should be thanking you for putting up with it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that I had to ‘put up’ with you,” Cas replied. He actually put air quotes around Dean’s words and Dean felt a warm wave of amusement; a feeling that turned into something decidedly hotter when Cas stepped forward into his personal space. Dean hoped that his quickened breathing wasn’t too noticeable. “Though if you’d like to think of it that way, that’s fine but I wouldn’t mind putting up with you again, maybe sometime next week?”

Another date? Was Dean hearing this right or had he slipped into a waking fantasy?

No, Cas had really asked him for another date and next week to boot. Dean felt like he could float away right there and then if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t look away from those twinkling blue eyes. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of his brain, the thought crossed his mind that Charlie was never going to let him live this down but he’d happily deal with the massive amount of ribbing he knew was coming his way in exchange for another date with Cas.

“Yeah, I would really like that,” Dean answered, unable and unwilling to stop what was probably a stupid looking grin from taking over his face. Cas returned his smile and it made Dean beam that much more.

“Then it’s a date,” Cas said, his voice suddenly softer. Just then, Dean became aware of how close they’d drifted while they’d talked; only a few scant inches separated them and Dean idly thought that he could count Cas’ eyelashes at this distance. He was so entranced by this idea that he was spooked slightly when Cas continued speaking, “I’d really like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

Dean’s mouth went dry and his heart either stopped entirely or started beating rapidly, he wasn’t exactly sure which it was at the moment, as he heard Cas propose the one thing he was dying to do right then. He could already feel those lips, the ones he’d been secretly fantasizing about ever since that first yoga class, on his own and managed to nod. Cas’ eyes heated slightly and gained a heaviness as he leaned forward to meet Dean, mouth parted slightly.

As soon as their lips met, Dean learned that even his most vivid imaginings had absolutely nothing on real life.

It wasn’t a frenzied, heated kiss like the ones that lived in the private corners of Dean’s mind but it was no less mind blowing. The moment Cas pressed those plush lips to his, Dean could feel it in his toes. A shivery heat crawled down his spine as Dean felt a hand cup the back of his neck delicately and fingers tangle lightly in the short hairs at the base of his skull; he responded to this touch by hesitatingly resting his hands on Cas’ waist. 

The one aspect of the kiss that threatened to turn Dean into mush however was the understated power of it. Dean got the distinct feeling that Cas was holding himself back. There was an air about him that made Dean think of a half domesticated tiger; true it was tame most of the time but the undeniable raw power thrumming just below the surface was proof that you’d be a fool to underestimate it. Dean could feel that hum of energy now, soaking into him through his hands on Cas’ waist and where their mouths moved together languidly.

Up until then, they had kept the moment chaste but the longer that they remained in contact, the more Dean needed. He was just about to try his luck in deepening the kiss, wondering if Cas would taste like ice cream, when the sound of a car horn blared in the street. They jumped apart as if they’d been electrocuted.

Cas, with slightly swollen lips and half lidded eyes, looked almost dazed; a fact that Dean felt proud of until it registered that he was probably in the same boat. In his defense, it had been a fucking amazing kiss.

_Just imagine what the sex would be like_ , a filthy corner of his mind mused as the image of Cas pinning him down and taking him frantically popped into his brain. Luckily for Dean, his face was already flushed enough from their kiss that there was no way the embarrassment from picturing _that_ while standing right in front of his fantasy’s star subject would be visible.

“That was extremely enjoyable,” Cas said, finally breaking the silence, which was quickly leaning towards the awkward end of the spectrum. He smiled that damn smile, getting Dean’s heart going again. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you. Thank you for letting me have that.”

_There’s a lot more where that came from,_ his dirty mind spoke up, _not to mention a whole lot of other things if you’re interested…_

“Y--yeah, me too,” Dean fumbled to say, ignoring the lewd thought with difficulty. Taking a beat to compose himself, he shot Cas what he hoped was a suave smile. “I had a great time tonight, Cas.”

“I did as well,” Cas responded, his hand dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. After tapping at the screen for a few seconds, he held it out to Dean. “Here, put your number in and I’ll text you about next week.”

At first Dean was confused but then he remembered what had happened right before he’d been blown away by that kiss. Cas wanted another date. Obviously being extremely for another date, Dean took the device and added his number gleefully before giving it back. Cas typed on the screen for a few seconds and then Dean’s phone chimed. He pulled it out under the eager look on Cas’ face to see, as expected, that he had a new text message.

_From Unknown: Hello, Dean :)_

“And now that I know I can get a hold of you,” Cas began, putting his phone away. He sighed heavily, “I guess that it’s time for me to get going; I have a sunrise yoga class tomorrow.”

Dean cringed playfully and laughed. “Yeeesh, sunrise is way too early to be doing yoga,” he said teasingly, enjoying the laugh that this drew from Cas. “I definitely won’t be doing that anytime soon but I do have work tomorrow morning so I guess you’re right.” 

His eyes flitted from Cas’ eyes down to his mouth almost unconsciously. He thought about asking if another kiss was on the table but he didn’t have to; before the thought had even made it’s way through his mind, Cas leaned forward and fitted their mouths together. Dean sighed in contentment.

It was over entirely too fast for Dean’s liking but soon Cas was pulling back.

“I’ll see you later, Dean,” he said before turning to walk down the sidewalk, leaving Dean in front of the bar. 

Next weekend couldn’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I loved writing this chapter so much! These two are just so adorable I can't stand it. Apologizes for the obviously stolen from the Lord of the Rings bar name; I couldn't think of anything else.


	9. An Unexpected Lunch

Two days after his date with Cas, Dean’s phone was assaulted by text messages.

He was in the middle of a staff meeting (his second of the week and it was only Tuesday) when his phone screen began lighting up, flashing every half a minute or so. Luckily for him, his consummate professionalism didn’t allow him to enter a meeting without silencing the device. A few of his nearer co-workers did shoot him either curious or annoyed glances but he ignored them. Most of them regularly played games on their phones under the table, they couldn’t judge him for just receiving text messages.

Checking out of the corner of his eye so he was still facing the front of the room, Dean saw that all of the messages were from Charlie. 

_Oh, boy. Here we go_ , he thought to himself, fighting the urge to roll his eyes since the action would almost definitely be taken the wrong way in his current environment.

To be completely honest, Dean was surprised that it took Charlie this long to start the interrogation. He’d been expecting either a barrage of texts or even a phone call on Sunday night after he’d gotten home from his date but to his mild shock, his phone remained silent. In fact, the only person to text him over the past few days was Cas.

Dean smiled to himself, despite his drab and boring location, at the thought of his conversations with Cas. They had been texting back and forth periodically since Monday morning when Cas texted him about his sunrise yoga, saying that Dean missed an invigorating class.

_To Cas: I think I’ll stick with my ‘invigorating’ coffee, thank you :)_

Normally he wasn’t one for emojis but there was just something infectious about Cas’ use of them that compelled him to take up the habit. The conversation had progressed from there onto other things but nothing very in depth, just how their mornings were going and how their days were looking. Dean may have fibbed a bit about his days, like saying that he was going to be heading into work soon despite having already been at work for an hour and saying that his day looked like it was going to be a slow one (he only had four meetings today so that wasn’t exactly a lie). 

In order to prevent more twistings of the truth, Dean tended to move the topic on to Cas’ day; apparently Cas had a few massage appointments followed by some yoga classes today. That line of was much more pleasant than talking about the hell hole that Dean worked at and he was genuinely curious to know what a self-employed ‘hippie doctor’/yoga studio owner did during the day; being an office worker, Dean’s days were pretty self explanatory so any other type of job had him intrigued. 

“And as many of you know, Winchester and I are working on the Stevenson account issue…”

Dean perked up at the sound of his name, realizing that his mind had wandered off; he sat up straighter in his chair and tried to look like he’d been studiously paying attention the whole time. Everyone at the table had turned to look at him and Adler was gesturing towards him.

“...now there have been a few setbacks,” Adler continued, a hint of laughter in his voice that made Dean grit his teeth. The smug smile on his boss’s face didn’t help either. “But then we all need help sometimes. Winchester has done the best he can and with the basic skeleton he’s provided, I’m sure the two of us can turn this thing around.”

_Oh, a ‘basic skeleton’?_ Dean thought bitterly as the meeting came to a close and he filed out of the conference room with the other meeting attendants. _Enlighten me as to when_ writing the entire proposal from scratch _became a basic outline. The only thing I didn’t do was present the damn thing to the representatives from the account._

The walk to his office was blessedly short and soon he was able to barricade himself in his office for the rest of his morning; he’d never been so happy to have a pile of paperwork chaining him to his computer. Sarah popped in occasionally with papers that needed his signature but she could tell he wanted to be left alone.

He fumed about Zachariah’s little stunt in the meeting until he decided that it was time for lunch. After quickly glancing at all of Charlie’s messages and seeing that they were indeed demands for information concerning his date with Cas, Dean made the unheard of decision to go out for lunch and texted his friend to meet him at their usual coffee shop.

_From Charlie: FINALLY!! I thought you’d been crushed under a pile of boring files or something….see you in a few :D_

This emphatic response managed to pull a small chuckle out of Dean as he gathered his jacket and left the office; Sarah looked vaguely shocked when he told her he was going out for lunch, just in case anyone came looking for him.

“Uh...of course, Mr. Winchester,” she said, eyes widened as her hands froze on her keyboard. He felt her almost analyzing him, probably trying to see if he was either sick or had been replaced by a pod person before she shook her head and regained her professional smile. “I’ll be sure to let anyone who stops by that you’ll get a hold of them when you return.”

“Thanks, Sarah,” Dean replied, smiling. She really was a fantastic assistant; he made a mental note to bring her back one of the chocolate muffins the coffee shop had on the menu for her as a thank you.

A strange sense of off-ness settled over him as he walked through the glass doors of Sandover Industries and into the bright midday sun. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d left the building in the middle of working hours; usually if he had a lunch meeting, the meal was a catered event in one of the many corporate conference rooms, no need to leave.

It was only a ten minute walk to the coffee shop, one of the reasons he and Charlie had started using it for their meetings; Dean suspected his friend thought they might meet up for lunch chats sometimes but of course, she quickly learned that trying to pry him away from his desk during the day was next to impossible. The shop was still a nice one and it was close to Charlene’s so they’d keep meeting there anyway.

Charlie waved at him enthusiastically from one of the outdoor tables as he came into sight of the building, her already bright red hair blazing in the sun. 

“I have to say, I wasn’t actually sure you were going to show up,” Charlie admitted, smirking with amusement as Dean settled into the chair across from her. She pushed the pair of sunglasses she wore up onto her head and looked at him with unabashed curiosity. “I figured you’d get called into a important meeting or whatever it is you business men do during lunch instead of eating.”

“Not today,” Dean answered, loosening his tie slightly. It felt good to take off the polished professional armor, even if he knew it had to be replaced in a little while. He cast a weary look at Charlie. “I’ve had it up to here with meetings today.”

Concern showed on his friend’s face and she leaned back into her chair. “You want to talk about it?” she asked, attempting to act like she didn’t care about his answer but it was obvious she was dying to know what had caused him to leave the office in the middle of the work day for something as mundane as lunch.

He shook his head. “No, not today,” he replied, leaning back in his own chair and willing himself to relax just for a little while. “I left the office to not think about that shit, not talk about it in detail; besides, isn’t there something else you’d like to talk than my horrible job?”

This perked Charlie up; she leaned forward eagerly, an almost crazy gleam in her eyes. “Of course,” she exclaimed, “If you couldn’t tell by my few text messages,” Here Dean snorted, few text messages his ass but Charlie ignored him and continued, “I am very anxious to hear how my two babies’ date went. I would have jumped you Sunday night but Gilda said to leave you alone and yesterday was the half off sale at the store; you wouldn’t believe how many people came in to buy vibrators...but enough about that, give me the deets.”

“First of all,” Dean began, holding up a finger for emphasis, “Cas and I aren’t ‘babies’ and second, this is my lunch so I’d like to at least order something to eat before we get into this.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Of course you’re babies, you’re both my adorable somewhat awkward gay babies and I’m shipping the hell out of you two,” she replied matter of factly. She waved her hand towards the coffee shop door. “And I already ordered you a sandwich and a smoothie before you got here; I figured it would save time for more play by play on your date if you did show up and if you didn’t, I could take it back to the shop for Gilda or me to eat later. Now stop stalling and overshare please.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes, sometimes he wondered how he ended up being friends with such a bossy person, but he did as he was told and launched into a detailed retelling of his date with Cas.

“Words cannot express how adorable and fluffy that date was,” Charlie said almost dreamily as Dean finished his story. She took a deep pull on the straw of her smoothie before adding, “You could make money writing that shit up and publishing it as a romance novel.”

Scowling around the bite of sandwich in his mouth, Dean made a disgruntled noise. “Don’t say my date was ‘adorable and fluffy’,” he complained once his mouth wasn’t full anymore. “Cas and I had a manly date at a bar followed by ice cream. You’re the one making it out to be all cute.”

Deep down Dean knew this was a lie. He did think there was a distinct fluff quality to his date with Cas but, in the privacy of his own mind of course, he didn’t mind because it was Cas. He’d always expected spending time with Cas wouldn’t be an all out dude fest all the time; there was a slight softness to his personality that Dean attributed to being all nature-y and figured this would mean that Cas was the type of person to woo his date a little.

And boy did Dean not mind being wooed; not that Charlie needed to know this information though so he was playing it cool.

“I stand by my assertions,” Charlie declared in that regal tone that Dean associated with her LARPing persona, the Queen of Moondor. “But let’s agree to disagree so we can get to the serious questions; questions like, when is the next date?”

“Sometime this weekend, I think,” Dean answered, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “We agreed to go out again and Cas said something about this week; I assumed he meant this weekend but he’d said he’d text with the details.”

As if triggered by his words, Dean’s phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Charlie heard the sound and her eyes grew wide. “Ooooh, is it him?!” she asked excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat, “Open it, open it, open it!”

“Hold your horses, red,” Dean said gruffly even though his slight nerves had him fumbling with his phone. He unlocked the screen and sure enough there was a text from Cas.

_From Cas: I happened to be on my way to lunch and I see you’re at the coffee shop I sometimes stop at, would it be presumptuous to join you?_

Dean’s head shot up and swiveled around, looking around the crowded sidewalk until his eyes came to rest on a familiar head of messy hair. He grinned brightly and waved, feeling a little flutter in his stomach as Cas waved back.

“No way, is he seriously here?” Charlie asked with delight, looking around as Dean had before finding the subject in question walking over to them. She looked back at Dean slyly. “I don’t care what you say Dean, this is romance novel material right here.”

Dean shushed her, trying not to blush and act like they hadn’t been talking about the very person who was now within earshot. “Cool it, Charlie,” he insisted, praying that his friend wouldn’t go out of her way to tease him. 

“I didn’t want to intrude,” Cas began to say as he reached their table but Charlie quickly cut him off.

“Intrude away my friend,” she said, gesturing to the third chair that sat between Dean and her. “I know I don’t mind and I’m certain that Dean doesn’t.”

Dean shot her a warning look as subtly as possible but Charlie just smiled and kicked his shin lightly under the table. Cas sat down in the seat, glancing back and forth between them as he removed his aviator shades and placed them on the table; it was plain that he was wondering what he’d just walked in on.

“I won’t between interrupting long,” Cas explained quickly as he gestured down the street where Dean knew the yoga studio to be. “Like I told Dean, I’m just on my lunch break and I’ll have to be getting back to work soon.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean said, nodding in understanding. “You have that couples yoga class today, right?” It was one of the yoga lessons Cas had told him about that morning; Dean had thought the premise sounded pretty nice but since it was during the afternoon and he didn’t even have anyone to attend it with, he’d never gone to one.

_Maybe that will change soon,_ he thought idly to himself as he imagined doing couples yoga with Cas. Dean may or may not have googled some of the poses after hearing about the concept and definitely didn’t spend several minutes daydreaming about doing yoga with Cas pressed up against him.

“Yes, that is today,” Cas said, jogging Dean out of the memory of a nice little fantasy of him and Cas alone in the yoga studio. “The class isn’t as full as I was hoping it would be but then it’s only the second round of the classes.”

“I’m sure more people will sign up once they hear about it,” Dean assured him; he gave Cas a coy smile. “Especially since the teacher is pretty damn awesome.”

Cas smiled back, his eyes soft. “I feel that you may be a bit biased, Dean,” he replied, leaning so his forearms rested on the table which in turn brought them closer together; Dean found himself mirroring the pose slightly. “But I’d never turn down a good review.”

They stared at each other for a minute, it was just on the tip of Dean’s tongue to pull out the cheesy ‘can I buy you a coffee’ line but a shrill ring interrupted him before he could even speak. He glared down at the cause of this disruption from where it lay on the table; it was his work phone and surprise, surprise…

The caller ID showed Z. Adler.

“You touch that phone, Winchester and I break a finger,” Charlie ordered, supreme loathing not even beginning to describe the look she sent towards the device which was pretty telling considering how into technology she was. Dean responded with a helpless shrug but compromised by not answering and sending his ‘Driving, will answer later’ automated text response.

“There, happy your highness” he asked with exaggerated sweetness. Dean was pretty sure he heard a snort of amusement from Cas but it was quickly covered with a polite cough.

Charlie crossed her arms and scrunched her nose. “Not really, since it’s obvious that you’re going to be hightailing your way back to the office now,” she replied, shooting another angry glare at his phone, “What the hell wrong with that place? You haven’t even been gone for half an hour and they have to call you? That Alder douche can go waltzing around playing golf but you can’t even have a decent lunch, why if I---”

“Okay! That’s enough,” Dean interrupted, knowing from past experience that she could go on for quite some time once the ‘Dean’s work’ boiler was lit. He turned to Cas and smiled apologetically, “Sorry, but I’m going to have to run back to the office. If Alder’s calling, there’s probably a major fire that needs put out.”

“And you’re the fireman,” Cas said with an understanding nod. He checked his phone and grabbed his shades. “I still have some time until I have to be back at the studio, I could walk with you back to the office, if you want.”

Dean, distracted by how well Cas was pulling off that particular style sunglasses (seriously, the man looked like he walked out of a magazine), could only nod and smile eagerly. They said goodbye to Charlie; it seemed her outrage at Dean skipping out on their lunch early had been dampened by Cas’ asking to walk him back to the Sandover building. She waved them off and made Dean promise to text her later.

After making a quick stop in the cafe to grab a chocolate muffin for Sarah, they walked mostly in silence back to the office but neither seemed to care; Dean definitely didn’t once a warm, strong hand grasped his lightly as they waited for the crosswalk light to change at an intersection. He wasn’t normally one for public displays of affection but walking hand in hand with Cas just seemed so...satisfying.

Cas pulled Dean to the side of the sidewalk so they were out of the way once they reached the building; he dropped Dean’s hand and reached his hands up to adjust his loosened tie, something that Dean had completely forgotten about.

“I’m really glad I ran into you today, Dean,” he said as he put his clothing right. The tingling sensation he felt when Cas’ fingers accidentally brushed his skin while tightening the knot on his tie distracted him from the vague thought that having someone messing with his clothes after returning from lunch probably would cause people to talk if they saw it. “I was going to text you later today to see if you wanted to go on our second date this Saturday morning.”

The prospect of another date so soon had Dean grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “Yeah, I would love to,” he answered excitedly. This meant that he would have to rearrange his usually weekend work session to in the evening but a date with Cas was definitely worth it. “Do I get to know what we’re doing or is it supposed to be a surprise?”

Cas paused, his expression thoughtful. “Hmm, I think I’d like for it to be a surprise if you don’t mind,” he finally said. He gave Dean a reassuring smile. “Though I will tell you that we’ll be outside and the dress code is casual.”

Dean nodded, aware that his all too brief lunch was rapidly coming to an end; he would have given anything to stand there in front of the building with Cas for another minute but Alder was probably waiting with horrible news. Cas must have sensed this internal struggle to say goodbye since he leaned in and kissed Dean firmly on the lips.

They shared only a couple chaste kisses before Cas pulled back. “As much as I would love to while away the rest of this lovely afternoon with you,” he said, the wistfulness in his voice echoing Dean’s. He brushed a thumb over the side of the hand he still held before letting go. “That couples yoga class isn’t going to teach itself.”

Dean managed to steal one more kiss before they had to part ways. He waved goodbye and watched at Cas disappeared into the crowded street. Sighing, he turned and wandered into the office, wondering what fresh mess Zachariah was about to leave on his doorstep.

It turned out that the problem that his boss tossed onto his desk was a pretty easy one; well, easier than most of the other issues he was tasked to deal with so Dean actually was able to escape the mindsucking vortex that was his office at a decent hour. The clock still read well after normal working hours but there was still a tinge of light out as he drove home.

He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, reveling in the comforting feeling of wearing something besides a suit. To commemorate having the the time, and more importantly the energy, to fix himself up something decent for dinner for once, Dean made a decidedly unhealthy batch of mac and cheese; there was even enough leftover for a few other meals, a nice bonus added to his day. 

Charlie would have harangued him for eating his dinner while settled on the couch and working on a few emails but Dean thought that maybe if he capitalized on this extra time, he’d be able to be ahead of the game for a microsecond. Dean made himself turn off his email after his inbox had been organized, all the completed emails being put in their proper folders and his in progress ones put in order of importance on his to do list, and pulled up an incognito window on his browser.

Ever since he’d started hanging out with Charlie, Dean only really perused the Down Time with my Dom blog. When Dean had admitted to being slightly weirded out by reading about the sexy shenanigans of his friend and her girlfriend, Charlie had told him that it really wasn’t _that_ weird and gave him her blessing to continue following them but he’d decided to limit his time on the blog anyway. He’d found a few other blogs to follow; they were definitely more sexual than Gilda’s blog but at least he didn’t feel odd browsing through them.

He spent the next half hour or so looking at the new content on his chosen blogs and looking at the lengthy, and incredibly descriptive, posts coupled with the titillating gifs quickly reminded him that it had been quite some time since he’d had any alone time. 

Usually he was either too busy trying to get caught up on work or too damn tired to even think about jerking off, most times it was a generous mix of the two, but lately Dean had noticed his libido starting to pick up. This may or may not have had something to do with a devilishly handsome yoga instructor who frequently demonstrated not only how strong and muscular he was, but also his mind boggling flexibility, on a regular basis.

Stroking lightly at the bulge in his sweatpants, Dean was contemplating a hot and relaxing shower when his phone beeped. He sighed and picked up the phone, figuring it was Adler, but was delighted to see it was a message from Cas. Dean wasted now time in opening the text, not realizing it was a multimedia message until he saw the picture.

And boy what a picture it was.

He registered that the text with the picture said ‘Never let me agree to teach two hot yoga classes in a row again’ with a tongue sticking out emoji but Dean didn’t seem physically able to pry his eyes off of the picture in front of him.

Cas had sent him what was obviously a post class selfie taken with help of the large mirrors at the front of the studio; the room behind him was completely empty and the blinds were drawn over the windows but Dean didn’t _really_ notice that. 

No, he was transfixed by Cas’ sweaty torso.

The back to back hot yoga classes had plainly affected him enough that Cas had stripped himself of his muscle shirt, leaving him bare chested. Dean’s eyes practically bulged out of his head as they travelled over the gleaming muscles, not leaving a single one observed. He was wearing the tighter yoga-pant style workout pants, a clothing choice that Dean wholeheartedly endorsed whenever it was worn to any of his Thursday night yoga classes. To make matters even worse, or better really, Cas was giving the camera a relaxed grin; that almost satisfied grin coupled with his half clothed state and sweat damp hair had Dean’s filthy mind working overtime.

He could just imagine Cas looking just like that except instead of being in a brightly light yoga studio, he was sprawled out on Dean’s bed after going a few rounds with the possibility of a follow up.

A second text from Cas jarred him out of his extremely in depth imaginings of the make believe antics that would have caused Cas to look like that. 

_From Cas: Considering your personality, I think you would enjoy hot yoga. It’s a bit of a challenge, you’ll have to come and get sweaty with us sometime. ;)_

Oh god, sexy flirting too? Did Cas even know what he was doing to him?

Dean forced his hand, which was practically kneading the bulge in his sweats now, away so he could type a response. Hopefully he could encourage some blood to stay in his brain long enough for him to think of something to say.

_To Cas: Maybe someday, haha. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that, your Thursday class gives me enough of a workout as it is._

He looked at the text before sending, after concluding that it sounded like a completely normal thing to say; Dean also determined that a shower was now a necessity rather than a possibility so he shut down his computer, grabbed his phone and made his way to his bedroom.

His phone pinged again while he was digging a towel out of the cupboard. Deep down he knew that he was probably going to regret looking at the message but another part of him knew it would also be a really good idea to so he walked over to check.

_From Cas: I still think you would but that’s entirely up to you. I have to go now, I’m extremely disgusting and in desperate need of a hot shower. Good night, Dean :)_

_Disgusting isn’t the word I’d use_ , Dean thought to himself as he thumbed back up through the conversation to that picture. _Nope, not disgusting at all._

_To Cas: I’ll leave you to it then, talk to you later. Night Cas :)_

Placing the phone on his nightstand, Dean hurried into his bathroom; he turned on the water and adjusted it to that perfect not too hot but just hot enough setting he liked. His skin was already tingling at the idea of getting off as he quickly stripped down. He caught sight of himself in the mirror when he walked by to get into the shower and paused, appraising himself. 

Now that he was getting a bit of exercise, Dean noticed that he was getting some definition in places he wasn’t used to seeing. His hand traced the muscles of his chest and he mused on what Cas would think of him considering he now had proof that being a yoga instructor meant having a sensational physique. Part of him started to panic as he noticed the slight pudge on his belly but a spookily Cas-like voice assured him that he was just fine.

Steam had started to fill the bathroom before the sight of his not entirely soft cock reminded him of why he was even taking a shower at night instead of in the morning like usual and he watched as it twitched slightly as he remembered the picture. Not wasting anymore time, Dean got into the shower.

Hot water cascaded down his back, easing the aches and stiffness that tended to accumulate during a day of hunching over a computer. Even though it was tempting, Dean didn’t reach down to grab himself right away. He wanted to take his time since it wasn’t every day that he had this much extra time and energy to do this.

Instead, he grabbed the bottle of bodywash that he kept on the upper shelf of his shower and poured a healthy dollop onto a washcloth; he didn’t let himself use this very often since it was super expensive and smelled amazing so it was one of his little indulgences. Rubbing the washcloth together, Dean worked up a healthy amount of suds and began to leisurely soap himself up, letting his imagination wander as he did so.

While Dean did use dirty videos and pictures sometimes when he got himself off, he really was better at using his mind; some of the best self-induced orgasms he could remember were from just letting his brain loose and letting his hands do as they would. Porn was a little limited in his opinion; you could only see what was there and, while there was undoubtedly a ton of porn on the internet, sometimes Dean couldn’t find exactly what he wanted.

Right now was a perfect example. There was nowhere on the internet that had a messy haired, ruggedly handsome yoga instructor with a kick ass bod and a gravelly voice that sounded like liquid sex, especially not one that was all sweaty and half naked. 

That image only existed in Dean’s mind.

The washcloth, which he’d been using to scrub at his chest, slowly started to move downward; the slight rasp of the fabric on the sensitive skin of his hips and lower belly made his breath hitch slightly. His cock was definitely more than half hard now; part of Dean wanted to just drop the washcloth and jerk off until he came but the more disciplined part of him wanted to drag this out. To drag it out until he couldn’t stand it anymore because that was the path that lead to mind melting orgasms and after all the stress he’d been under, he deserved that.

He did allow the washcloth to brush teasingly along the base of his cock as he pictured the sweat slick skin of Cas’ chest; in his mind his eyes travelled down the muscles there down to linger on the lightly defined abs before pausing at the vee of his hips. Maybe it was because he knew he would probably never have that particular trait or maybe it was what those lines hinted at even when viewed on someone wearing clothes, whatever the reason, Dean was a complete sucker for nicely defined hips. Just seeing that vee of Cas’ hips made him want to drop to his knees and nip and suck downward to where he knew they converged. 

Dean groaned at the thought as he imagined himself in the yoga studio, pushing Cas back against the floor to ceiling mirror and tugging those form fitting yoga pants down inch by inch as he nibbled a path downward. Cas would have his head thrown back against the mirror as he groaned and panted, one of those elegant hands tangled into Dean’s hair, gripping firmly but not tugging, not yet. 

Cas would try to be quiet at first, Dean imagined; he seemed like he would try to keep his usual composure, all zen and relaxed but Dean would use all his power to make noise escape him. Eventually he would get the pants down low enough that Cas’ cock would spring free. It would be big if what glimpses Dean had been able to sneak on days Cas wore his tighter pants were anything to go by and it would be hard and leaking if everything had gone according to Dean’s plan. He could imagine the deep rough groan that would be punched out of Cas as Dean brushed his lips over the head.

Unable to resist the urge anymore, Dean dropped the washcloth and started stroking himself, slowly and lightly, as he leaned towards the wall in front of him, resting his forehead on the tile. He closed his eyes and slipped even deeper into his fantasy.

Now they were in Dean’s apartment, Cas sitting on the couch while Dean kneeled in front of him. Cas looked down at him pointedly and raised an eyebrow; immediately understanding, Dean made short work of swallowing down that hard cock.

In real life, Dean moaned at the imagined taste; he bet that Cas, who mainly ate healthy, probably tasted great and his mouth tingled at the thought of it. His hand was putting more pressure on his own dick, stroking in time with his mental counterparts bobbing head. 

_So good for me, Dean_ , mental Cas rumbled, fingers twined in his hair and encouraging his head to move up and down. Cas’ hips would buck up slightly into his face as Dean’s head moved faster and his hand fondled Cas’ balls.

Dean’s hand started to move faster, the tension in his groin growing tighter and tighter. He knew that he’d been planning to draw this out but the idea of Cas leisurely fucking his mouth along with the almost maddening sensation of hot water rolling over his sensitive skin, not to mention the fact that he hadn’t gotten off in months, had Dean ready to blow already. He tried slowing his hand slightly and while it did draw out that pleasant aching build, it didn’t stop it entirely.

Hips thrusting forward into the tunnel of his hand, Dean moaned quietly as mental Cas’ groans got louder and rougher and his grip got tighter on his hair. His hand was flying over his cock now as the images in his head flashed through in broken pieces; Cas holding him down and fucking him from behind, Cas pinning him against a wall and grinding against him, Cas sliding his spit slick dick out of Dean’s mouth and stroking himself until he came all over Dean’s face. All of these contributed to bringing Dean right to that delicious edge, where his entire body was tense and his groin felt like liquid fire, but it was one image in particular that threw him off the cliff.

_Such a good boy, pet_ ,mental Cas moaned into his ear as he came inside him. _My perfect pet._

Dean was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a second as his eyes shot open and he cried out, coming all over the tile wall. His hips bucked forcefully into his hand as he pulled firmly on his cock, milking out every last pleasurable wave of his orgasm until he became too sensitive to continue.

“Holy shit,” he panted to himself, legs feeling so wobbly he had to brace his hands on the wall. 

Despite not drawing it out like he would have liked, Dean figured that had to be one of the best orgasms he’d had in recent memory. He managed to muster enough brain power to turn off the water and drag himself out of the bathroom. It was a testament to how fantastic he felt that Dean didn’t even bother getting dressed after drying off, he just crawled into bed and buried himself under the covers. Work, usually one of the last things he thought about before going to sleep, didn’t even register as he pulled on of his pillows into his arms and hugged it.

His brain was too occupied with the imaging a rumbling voice in his head telling him what a good boy he’d been, a fantasy that lulled him into a pleasant sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of smut for you all :)
> 
> If you see any horrible errors in this chapter, I apologize. I had to edit this on my phone since my piece of junk computer decided that it wanted to become utterly worthless but luckily I got it to work long enough for me to format it for posting. Disaster averted. I have a new laptop ordered so hopefully it'll be here on Thursday and I'll be able to actually get some work done without the internet crashing on me ever two seconds.


	10. And A Few More Dates

Dean was jarred from sleep by an alarm, his arm flailed wildly out to slap at his phone. His hand hit numerous papers before finding it and switching it off. He looked blearily looked at the screen, brows knit in confusion.

Why did he set an alarm for so early on a Saturday morning?

Sitting up, he looked at his bed and tried to put the pieces back together in his mind; he took in the sight of his bed covered in papers, his laptop off to one side with the screensaver on. Oh, that’s right; he’d been up late working on that stupid account. Normally he wouldn’t have worked that long on a Friday night but he wanted to make up for missing time since he was…

Going on a date with Cas this morning.

Dean sat up straighter, his sleepy haze slipping off him easily and being immediately replaced by joyous anticipation. 

That was why he set the alarm; he wanted time to get ready for going out with Cas this morning. 

Fighting the urge to leap out of bed, Dean carefully gathered all the papers that were currently laid out all over his bed and organized them into an order he’d remember later. Once everything was cleaned up, he got out bed and hurried to the shower. He’d set his alarm for almost two hours before he needed to leave to meet Cas but he was just so excited that he didn’t seem able to take his time.

He showered thoroughly but quickly, making sure to grab the special body wash even though the memory of what he’d done the last time in the shower made him blush. The debate on whether to shave or not took up a surprisingly large amount of time. 

On one hand, he was getting pretty scruffy, something that his highly ingrained grooming habits rebelled against but on the other hand, he thought he looked kind of good with a bit of stubble. In the end he decided to leave it, Cas did say the dress code was casual. Dean felt he’d made the right decision when he checked himself in the mirror again later after he’d put on his plain black t-shirt and worn jeans; he looked pretty damn good.

Between agonizing over his appearance, eating as much breakfast as he could manage with his slight nerves, and doing a few light chores that he normally did on Saturday mornings, the time passed quickly. He grabbed his wallet and left his apartment.

It was an easy drive to the yoga studio; they’d agreed to meet there since Cas was going to be driving them to where their date would be. Dean marvelled at how good he felt; true the evil specter of work lurked at the back of his mind but it was easy to ignore when he was going to be hanging out with Cas on such a gorgeous day.

Cas was waiting for him when he pulled into Bee Happy, leaning casually against the side of an bulky Continental. Dean smiled to himself; that wouldn’t have been the car he would have guessed Cas would have but it fit him somehow. He parked his hybird next to the tan behemoth of a vehicle and got out.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said cheerily. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt too and Dean could safely say he enjoyed the look on him. “Ready for our surprise date?”

Dean smiled and walked over, to his surprise Cas leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. This action derailed Dean’s train of thought for a minute and it took a few beats for him to respond. “Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to this for the last couple of days.”

“Then let’s get going,” Cas said, gesturing towards his car, “I think you’re really going to like this.”

“Do I get to know what we’re doing yet?” Dean asked playfully as they got into the car and buckled in. “Or do I have to wear a blindfold?”

Cas chuckled as he started the car. “Well, I suppose that I could if that was something you are into,” he said casually, navigating the car out of the parking lot. Dean’s heart rate picked up slightly at the idea of being blindfolded and at Cas’ mercy.

_Bad Dean! No kinky thoughts during date time_ , he chided himself. Cas didn’t seem to notice anything had gone a miss there for a second and Dean was grateful. He was pretty sure kink discussion was not a second date activity.

They made their way out of the crowded city, slowly weaving in and out of the almost lazy traffic on the freeway. While they did chat most of the time about random things, Dean mainly lost himself in surreptitiously observing Cas. He’d never really had a chance to just look at him; the only time he really saw him was during class, well before their date anyway, and usually Dean was too preoccupied with making sure he didn’t fall on his face to sneak a peak.

Cas’ driving reflected his personality; he drove with a sense of ease that Dean had never encountered himself during busy traffic. Usually he drove with his hands grasped firmly at ten and two, staring ahead determinedly but not Cas. His hands, hands that may or may not have had starring roles in Dean’s fantasies of late, gently gripped the wheel and sometimes he even held it one handed with the other hand gestured or rested on his thigh. He chatted easily and Dean slightly envied his ability to be so laid back.

“So you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” Dean asked during a lull in their conversation. They’d been driving for about an hour now. The closely packed confines of the city had been left behind shortly followed by the cookie cutter suburbs until they’d reached the leafy green and sparsely populated countryside. To be honest, it had been so long since Dean had seen so much vegetation in one place that his eyes were almost confused which was slightly depressing considering he’d grown up in the country.

Cas hummed thoughtfully, a sly smirk on his lips. “Well, I was going to torture you some more,” he mused casually, “But I suppose since we’re almost there I’ll spill.” He turned his head to look at Dean, a bright smile on his face. “We’re going to the Honey-Bee festival!”

Dean carefully weighed his options before inquiring sheepishly. “Um, not to sound unenthusiastic but um, what’s the Honey-Bee festival?” He mentally crossed his fingers and toes, hoping that he didn’t just insult Cas by questioning his choice of date. It had more than likely been stupid of him to ask but he’d never even heard of this thing.

“Oh, I sort of figured it wasn’t on your radar,” Cas replied, brushing off Dean’s apprehension. “It’s actually a relatively new event; this is only the third year I believe.”

Suddenly they found themselves in traffic the Dean assumed was festival related since Cas maneuvered the car into a line of vehicles that appeared to be headed towards some sort of fairground. As they inched forward slowly, Cas continued to explain. “The Honey-Bee festival is meant to raise awareness for the endangered status of bees, something that it still does wonderfully, but now it’s become more of a festival/fair day.”

“Sounds awesome,” Dean said with a grin. Now that they were moving slower, he rolled down his window and breathed in deep, filling his lungs with fresh air. “Honestly it’s just great to be out of the city. I’ve forgotten how nice it is out here.”

“That may have been one of my ulterior motives for this date,” Cas admitted as they entered the parking area and were motioned into place by fluorescent vest bedecked parking monitors. He parked the car and killed the engine, turning to smile at Dean mischievously. “I got the feeling the other night that you missed the outdoors so I thought maybe giving that to you couldn’t hurt my chances at wooing you.”

Dean returned the smile and nodded before opening his door and getting out while Cas did the same on his side of the car. Feeling a slight surge of confidence, he gave him his best flirty smirk and winked at Cas. “Consider me wooed, Cas.”

Not to be outdone, Cas walked around the car and held out his arm in obvious invitation. “Shall we?” he asked with the same flirtatious expression.

Dean, feeling the lightest he’d felt in years, took his arm and they started the trek into the fair.

Despite his assertion that nothing would make him untangle his arm from Cas’ and abandon the pleasant warmth of his side, soon Dean found himself hopping from stall to stall at the festival and marvelling at all the different vendors.

There were oodles of different booths showing off the goods they’d made from raising bees locally. Honey could be found by the gallon and it was difficult to resist buying it all since the golden liquid in every bottle loomed so delicious. He did buy a sampling of honey, only a little over a half dozen bottles, which Cas insisted on carrying like the perfect gentleman he was; not that Dean would have expected anything less than that from him.

They walked around the festival for hours, watching a few candle making demonstrations, checking out the homemade soaps and other neat things that Dean hadn’t ever really thought about before. Cas was enthralled by a tent they found that had a live bee display; Dean was pretty sure he could have left and wandered around the whole festival on his own and come back to find his date in the exact same spot.

“I may have a thing for bees,” Cas admitted without shame when Dean finally pried him away so they could figure out where to go for lunch. There was an entire row of festival food carts so they wandered down it, trying to decide which they liked the most. “They’re just so fascinating.”

Dean chuckled, dodging a group of fellow festival goers, before smiling at him. “I kind of guessed that,” he said, grinning harder as Cas blushed ever so slightly. “What with the name of your studio and all.” 

Settling on pizza for their choice of food, they joined the end of the reasonably long line at the cart bedecked with large pizza slices. Cas smiled, lighting up his face in a way that made Dean want to kiss him silly, and nodded. “Yes, I did bring my love of bees to my love of teaching yoga,” Cas said as they reached the front of the line. He chuckled softly. “Plus I love puns.”

Cas ordered their food and paid, citing Dean’s argument from their first date when Dean tried to argue. They took their slices and sodas over to one of the covered picnic tables and sat down. There wasn’t much talking done as they dug into their food; Dean mused to himself that maybe there was some truth to that saying about fresh air building up a good appetite.

_Well, either that or it’s all the walking_ , he thought, chewing a large bite of pepperoni pizza. He’d probably walked twice the amount he normally walked in a week in the few hours they’d been at the festival but then, that wouldn’t be hard to do considering he was chained to his desk all day at work.

He finished his food first and sipped at his soda, waiting for Cas to finish his. Suddenly something brushed his foot and Dean jolted at the feel of it. A light snort of laughter in front of him had his eyes darting up to see Cas smiling impishly at him right before he felt his foot nudged again. It took a minute to interpret the expression on Cas’ face but when he did, he huffed a small laugh.

Cas wanted to play footsie with him.

“What, are we in high school?” he asked, lightly tapping his foot in retaliation. It wasn’t that he was against it, in fact he found that the idea made his stomach flutter slightly, it just didn’t seem like something that two grown men would do.

This earned him another jab in the foot before the appendage ran up and down his calf lightly; Dean fought the slight shiver that ran down his spine, not wanting to give Cas the satisfaction but the smirk on Cas’ lips told him that he wasn’t very successful.

“There’s nothing wrong with a bit of old fashioned fun, Dean,” Cas said innocently as he chewed on his pizza crust, his foot still rubbing up and down the side of Dean’s leg; sure it was through denim and Cas was wearing his sneakers but Dean felt a slight tingle all the same. “Sometimes it’s nice to go back to basics.”

Dean, not one to be outdone, started brushing his other foot against Cas leg and was happy to see that he jumped slightly in surprise. He chuckled, “Don’t like getting a taste of your own medicine, Cas?” he teased, nudging his leg harder only for Cas to retaliate.

Soon this devolved into a light kicking match under the table that was only stopped because an older woman at the other end gave them a withering look. Dean was half tempted to tell her to fuck off but Cas was already hurrying him along so they could get to the rest of the festival though he did give her a dirty look on the way by; who gave her the right to judge their fun anyway?

The rest of the afternoon seemed to fly by and the next thing Dean knew, they were pulling back into the parking lot a ‘Bee Happy’. It was already starting to get dark; they’d stayed at the festival long enough to see the winners of the bake off and Cas had even bought him a small batch of sticky buns and a little ceramic honey bee.

Cas turned off the car and the silence was deafening.

“I guess this is the part where I get out and go home, huh?” Dean said, trying for levity but he knew that he sounded glum but that was understandable; he didn’t want the day to end. He turned to face Cas and to find that he was already looking at him.

Smiling softly, Cas nodded his head slightly. “Yes, I suppose so,” he replied quietly. 

Neither of them moved.

The tension in the car was growing with every second but Dean didn’t know what to do. He knew what he _wanted_ to do and that involved a more private locale and a more horizontal area but he got the distinct impression that Cas wasn’t the sort to go home with someone after only two dates what with the footsie under the lunch table bit. Maybe he’d try his luck on the third date; it typically was the more traditional date for that kind of activity. Hi mind was swirling with so many thoughts, it was getting hard to settle on a set plan.

Luckily for him, Cas saved him the trouble of deciding.

A pair of slightly chapped lips brushed his own as Cas leaned in to kiss him and a warm hand cupped his cheek. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds before Cas pulled away to murmur, “I assume that this is okay?”

Smiling, Dean nodded and closed his eyes, leaning back in. “Yeah, nothing like a bit of old fashioned fun,” he quipped as he twined his fingers in that messy head of hair and fit his mouth back onto Cas’.

Kissing Cas was great.

It had been a very long time since Dean had had a plain old make out; not one of those mack sessions that was going to lead to sex or at the very least some third base action. Though he supposed ‘plain’ wasn’t the word to describe it since there was definitely nothing boring and plain at all about the way Cas kissed him.

Cas kissed him like he had nothing better to do in his life than to be in the front seat of his car with Dean, pressed up against him while their hands explored tentatively. Neither one of them wandered into frisky territory but that was okay. It felt so good to be this close to someone again, so near them that they were sharing air; he hadn’t had something like this since his college boyfriend Benny. 

Dean hadn’t realized how touch-hungry he’d been until that moment but then it made sense; he lived alone and, with the exception of hearty handshakes and brief pats on the shoulder, it wasn’t like he was hugging people at work. Now that he was had it, all he wanted to do was get a close to Cas as he could which is why he made a sound of protest when Cas gently pushed him away.

“Not that I’m not thoroughly enjoying this,” Cas said, his voice slightly breathless. He brushed a thumb over Dean’s cheekbone and Dean leaned into the touch like a cat. “I have a few massage appointments tonight that I need to get ready for.”

Sighing but nodding in understanding, Dean reluctantly removed his hands from the warm body in front of him and shifted back. “Yeah, I have some paperwork I need to get done,” he replied as work started to creep back in on his thoughts now that their date was winding to a close. 

“You do work on the weekends?” Cas asked, looking surprised; his brow crinkled in what either could be confusion or concern, though knowing him like Dean did, it was probably a healthy dose of both. “I doesn’t seem very fair to make you work extra hours during the week in addition to working over the weekend.”

Dammit.

Dean should have known that telling Cas about his late hours this week would come back to bite him in the ass. Up until this point, he’d been strategically sparing him most of the details about his hectic work schedule; this was mainly due to his worry that Cas would look at him with that disappointed and frustrated expression he got from Charlie when he mentioned it to her. He also feared that Cas would put their dates on hold out of concern for Dean. He could totally see Cas being reluctant to make plans because he thought Dean would be tired from work. 

“Oh, this doesn’t happen a lot,” Dean lied, hopefully it sounded as smooth and unsuspicious to Cas as it did to him. He waved a hand in the air. “This is just a special circumstance kind of thing.”

Cas rubbed soothingly at Dean’s hands, almost if he thought applying his massage techniques to his hands would make Dean relax; the funny thing was that it was working. “Well, I hope it doesn’t happen too often,” he said with a small smile before giving Dean’s hand a kiss. “Because I would be devastated if work got in the way of my plans for wooing you.”

“That would be a tragedy,” Dean murmured as he leaned in again, drawn unerringly to the soft warmth of Cas mouth.

They didn’t actually get out of the car for another ten minutes.

 

True to the pattern they were swiftly creating, Dean was the one to plan their next date.

He wracked his brain all week on what he wanted to do and agonized over how to execute it. Unfortunately Dean didn’t have an awesome outdoor festival up his sleeve which meant that he was forced to go with the tried and true option of dinner. Cas seemed happy enough with this suggestion, responding to Dean’s text with numerous cheerful emojis, but Dean wasn’t pleased at all. 

Dinner just seemed so...lame.

A litany of ‘not good enough’ cycled constantly through his head as he googled restaurant review after restaurant review. While the idea had started as a joke between them, Dean really did want to sweep Cas off his feet like he deserved.

After a long and exhaustive search, Dean settled on a trendy restaurant downtown in the decidedly classier section of the city. The place had fantastic reviews online and, from what he had picked up from the brief conversations he’d overheard at work, was definitely worth the obscene amount of money it would take to secure a reservation; it wasn’t if Dean didn’t have plenty of cash to spare anyway. In his mind, money spent on showing Cas how important he was to him was definitely money well spent.

Friday felt like it took forever to arrive though that probably had something to do with the half a dozen different reports Adler had demanded for the Stevensen account over the course of the week. The only upside to this rigorous workload was that Dean was able to partially distract himself from his worries over their date until that evening. 

Dean was pretty proud of the fact he only felt like a small amount of nerves as he waited outside his building for Cas to arrive; they’d agreed to meet at Dean’s apartment building since it was the easier of their two places to find. Apparently Cas lived in one of the more confusing neighborhoods of the city and, since they were sort of on a deadline considering they had a reservation, it was better for them to meet at his place. 

The sound of a car pulling into the parking lot drew Dean’s attention and he couldn’t help grinning as he saw Cas’ monster of a car coming towards him; he waited not quite patiently as Cas parked the car and got out. He’d been planning on teasing him about his car but none of the remarks that Dean had devised actually made it out of his mouth, instead they dried up and disappeared as he took in the sight before him.

He’d wrongly assumed that nothing would be able to compare to the sight of Cas in his jeans and leather jacket combo or put the image of Cas’ post hot yoga selfie out of his mind but he’d been wrong...so unbelievably wrong.

Cas in a suit was going to be the death of him.

Exactly zero thoughts besides ‘oh dear lord’ passed through Dean’s brain as his eyes drank in the glorious view. Cas was wearing a dark navy blue suit that had to be tailormade; there was no way an off the rack suit fit someone that good. Then again, Cas wasn’t just some regular schmuck; he probably could just waltz into any store, grab the first suit he saw and look fucking fantastic. Dean thought the danger of drooling like a moron was frighteningly high as he realized Cas was wearing a waistcoat (a freaking _waistcoat_ ) that hugged his tight muscular frame. The whole look gave Cas such an air of control and power that Dean really couldn’t be blamed for wanting to sink to his knees right there in the parking lot and letting Cas fu---

“Hello, Dean,” Cas voice broke through his distracted haze. He was smiling at him and Dean, once he filed away certain images for later, was pleased to see those blue eyes were surreptitiously running over him. “You look fantastic.” He leaned in to give Dean’s lips a brief kiss before pulling away and holding out his elbow. “Shall we go?”

Dean nodded, excited nerves kicking in again, as he took the proffered elbow. “Yeah, don’t want to be late,” he replied as they walked towards the car. 

 

They made it to the restaurant on time, though it was an immense struggle on Dean’s part to not ask Cas to just turn around so he could drag him up to his apartment to ravage him like a caveman. Dean was forced to give the valet a stern glare when they arrived; the almost scandalized look the man gave the car as Cas gave him the keys set off a slight protective streak that Dean wasn’t sure that he’d even had. While it was true that Dean teased Cas about the oddity that was his car, he wasn’t going to stand for people looking down on it.

A sharply dressed waiter showed them to their table after taking their jackets and giving them tickets; Dean wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of just giving someone his clothes but he supposed that was the price to be paid for eating at a fancy place like this. Their table was one of many in the room and close to the middle; the sounds of conversation and eating were consciously subdued and made the atmosphere at bit stifling but then he’d seen this before when he’d had to take important clients out to eat.

Didn’t mean that he was a fan of it, just that he was used to it.

The waiter gave them a short spiel about the day’s ridiculously complicated specials were before presenting them with overly fancy menus and departing. Pushing aside his slight discomfort, Dean picked up his menu and smiled at Cas who did the same as he picked up his own menu.

“Let’s see what’s good here,” he said, cheerfully as he opened the ornate cover.

Looking over the menu, Dean quickly determined there was nothing on it that truly appealed to him; nothing at these places ever really did. They all seemed to outlandish to him and almost always didn’t taste anything like he’d guess they did so it was pretty much a given that he would be disappointed. Give him simple diner food any day of the week.

But Cas deserved to be treated to a fancy meal so he could just suck it up and eat subpar ‘superior’ cuisine for one night.

“The lemon chicken in herbs with spring greens sounds...good,” Dean said, eyes still fixed on his menu. He put an extra dose of enthusiasm in his voice to cover his dubious feelings about his choice of meal. Expecting some sort of answer, it took him a few seconds to realize that Cas hadn’t actually said anything.

He looked up, thinking that Cas was probably just engrossed by his menu, to see that he was staring straight at Dean, his menu closed in front of him. Cas was studying him intently, his brows knit slightly in concentration.

“Picked what you wanted already?” he asked with a marginally awkward chuckle, wondering just why Cas was staring at him like that.

But Cas didn’t laugh. Instead he tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes. Dean felt like he was being x-rayed.

“You aren’t comfortable here,” Cas said. It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact and Dean was dumbstruck that he’d been found out. He’d thought he had been doing an extremely good job of hiding his dislike for upscale restaurants; part of his job was being able to fake being comfortable in a variety of places as long as the clients were happy. “Why did you plan our date at place you don’t enjoy?”

The only plan his brain could spit out was to evade.

Scoffing light heartedly, Dean shook his head and grinned. “What are you talking about, Cas? I’m fine,” he lied, quite expertly in his honest opinion. “Seriously, this is actually a new place for me so technically I don’t have an opinion yet so…”

“Dean, it’s obvious that you’re uncomfortable,” Cas interrupted, not unkindly. “At first I thought it might be nerves because of our date but,” he paused and reached out to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezing the muscle clinically and frowning critically as whatever he apparently found confirmed his suspicions. “You’re still remarkably tense.”

_Deny, deny deny_ , Dean’s brain supplied unhelpfully. It was dumb advice but he took it anyway.

“Tense, who’s tense?” he joked, opening his menu in the hopes of hiding behind it. “I am completely fine.”

To his surprise, Cas eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms; Dean’s heartbeat picked up minutely as he caught a glimpse of that powerful side of Cas that he’d felt when they’d kissed that first time. His mind immediately ran with this idea and ran right into the gutter before he realized Cas was still staring at him expectantly

Might as well come clean; he hadn’t expected Cas to be a human lie detector.

He placed his menu down again to buy time to think before saying anything. “Okay, okay, you’re right,” Dean admitted, toying with the base of his elaborate water glass. “I’m not exactly a fan of places like this.” He gestured at the room. “They remind me of work and they’re usually stuffy and uncomfortable.”

Cas was quiet for a second and Dean was starting to get nervous. Great, even when he worked extra hard not to screw up, somehow he managed to make a mess of things. Going to a super fancy restaurant was obviously a stupid idea, he should have come up with something better. 

“Then let’s leave.”

Shaken out of his thoughts of how to salvage the evening, Dean looked up. “Wait, what? Just up and leave?” he asked, not quite able to compute what Cas was saying. Did he really just suggest they waltz out of the restaurant?

Could people do that?

“Of course,” Cas answered simply as if this were obvious. “There is no rule that says you have to eat somewhere. If you’re uncomfortable, I’d rather go somewhere you’ll be at ease.”

Dean grimaced. The only places he felt truly comfortable with were run of the mill diners, hole in the wall sandwich shops and other places like that, places that were nowhere fancy enough for a date night. 

They were wearing suits for crying out loud. It would be like those teenagers that go to McDonald’s in their prom dresses and tuxes. They couldn’t do that, that would ridiculous.

Right?

Apparently Cas correctly interpreted Dean’s silence as a reluctance to answer and took pity on him. “I don’t know about you,” he said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial smirk, lowering his voice, “But I could go for a for some greasy diner food.” He nodded towards the door. “Sound like a plan?”

Returning the smile, Dean nodded. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

Half an hour later, after retrieving their jackets and slipping out of the restaurant, found them seated in a mostly clean diner booth as they dug into burgers and plates of cheese fries. 

There had been a heated debate, encouraged by Cas oddly enough, until eventually Dean suggested on of his usual haunts; Dean suspected he’d done it on purpose since it was still Dean’s turn to plan the date even though Cas had technically made the decision to leave. Not that Dean minded in the slightest, anything to get away from all those stuffy people and their ridiculous ‘food’ and besides, he got to show Cas one of his favorite places. It was a small place but he loved to visit whenever he had a chance, not that he’d had a chance in a long time.

The food was still as awesome as he remembered.

“So, seriously, the fact that we’re eating cheap burgers in a diner while wearing formal wear doesn’t bother you at all” Dean asked after a big sip of his soda. Cas was mid-bite so Dean had a few seconds to just take in the view of slightly rumpled suit Cas. He looked almost artfully disheveled with his loosened tie and his sleeves were rolled up to keep them out of the way while the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. 

“Forgive me for answering a question with a question,” Cas said once his mouth wasn’t full. “But when did I give you the impression that I need fancy dates?”

Dean squirmed; the prospect of having to actually say his reasoning out loud was giving him the creeping sensation that he’d been worrying over nothing again. “Well, I want to, you know, woo you,” he admitted, not quite meeting Cas’ eyes.

“Dean, I took you to a fair for my date, what about that screams I require fancy food to be wooed,” Cas pointed out logically before taking another bite of his burger.

Sinking back into his seat, Dean bit into a fry petulantly. “Well when you put it that way...”

“I make sense of course,” Cas piped up, grinning impishly. Dean, starting to feel better after his disastrous date planning fiasco, threw his straw wrapper at him to which he retaliated by tossing a small fry back. 

They almost devolved into an actual food fight until a disapproving cough from the man at the booth behind Cas broke into their little bubble. Dean popped the fry he’d been about to launch into Cas’ hair in his mouth instead. They attempted to look like the grown men they were, failing horribly as they started giggling at the outrageousness of what they had almost done.

Cas wiped his eyes as he slowly got hold of himself. “Getting back to the point I was trying to make,” he said, slightly breathless from laughing. “How about we both agree to stick to simple plans for our dates, that way we know we’re both on the same page, deal?”

“Deal.”

Eventually they left the diner and Cas drove them back to Dean’s apartment where they further emulated teenagers at prom by necking in the front seat. Nothing too heavy of course since they were out in the open but enough that Dean wanted more.

Strong fingers tangled in his hair, tilting it so that Cas could take control of the kiss; not that Dean was going to fight him. Kissing Cas was a small way to indulge his little kink since dominating Dean’s mouth seemed to come extremely naturally to him. The way he held onto him firmly as they made out made Dean want to roll over onto his back and show his belly. 

“Come inside?” he panted after breaking free to breathe. He’d been thinking about this since their last date, hell from the first time he’d seen Cas, and he’d decided that maybe he’d try making the first move. Cas seemed like the gentlemanly type so he was probably waiting for Dean to say something. Luckily for both of them, Dean was feeling more than a little brave tonight. “We can get a bit more comfortable,” he said, before pausing and sliding a hand up Cas’ thigh towards the noticeable bulge in his slacks, stopping short of actually groping him since he had a little bit of class. “You know, if you want.”

He made sure to turn on the charm, looking at Cas coyly through his lashes; Dean was pleased to see heat flare in Cas’ eyes and mentally planned out the fastest route up to his apartment. They could take the side stairs and avoid the elevator, he was only on the third floor and considering the fact they were both highly motivated---

“Not tonight, Dean.”

Disappointment and a small amount of hurt and shame washed over Dean like cold water, completely obliterating his mood; he honestly hadn’t been expecting a no. It was the third date after all; third date usually meant sex. Thanking his lucky stars that it was dark enough in the car that Cas couldn’t see how red his face was, Dean adopted a nonchalant smile. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. Cas was looking at him but Dean couldn’t meet his eyes, not quite yet. He looked out the windshield at his building and started to shift away from Cas, gesturing vaguely towards the passenger side door. “I wasn’t really expecting anything; I had a really great time tonight but anyway….I think I’m going to head in now, I’ve got some paperwork I just remembered I have to get done and---”

The strained babbling that was pouring from his mouth was cut off by Cas kissing him again. The kiss silenced the ranting voice in his head that accused him of ruining everything by being a shameless horndog but now he was just confused.

Cas pulled back and placed a finger over his lips before he could ask what was going on. “I didn’t say that I didn’t want to come up, Dean,” Cas explained in that calm soothing voice of his. Dean couldn’t quite make out his eyes in the dim light that made its way through the car windows. “I just think that we need to get to know each other better before we take that step. Trust is something I value very highly in a relationship and I feel we need to work on building that trust before we sleep together. Do you understand?”

Dean nodded and then, realizing that Cas probably couldn’t see him very well, he said, “I guess you’re right.”

And he meant it. Now that he’d had a chance to cool off, Dean could see that Cas’ request wasn’t unreasonable. It was also something that Dean normally would have suggested if it weren’t for the fact he seemed to revert to being a horny, easily distracted teenage boy around Cas. 

_And that value on trust will come in handy for_ other _aspects of our relationship,_ Dean thought, _especially if things go like I hope they will._

Alright then, no sex tonight then. Dean could deal with that.

“I better get going then,” he said, shifting away again; this time more reluctantly than the last. He really didn’t want the night to end despite the hiccups that had occurred but considering what Cas had said, he didn’t think it was wise to try and steal another few kisses. “Don’t want my wandering hands to get me trouble,” he joked, hoping to lighten the dim mood he’d caused.

A hand reached out to grasp his wrist gently as he went to turn towards his car door. “Just because we aren’t going to have sex tonight doesn’t mean that we have to be monks, Dean,” Cas said, his thumb brushing against the skin of Dean’s wrist. “Physical intimacy is a part of any relationship and there are a lot of other ways to enjoy ourselves while staying decent, as long as you’re interested that is.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t speak and suddenly what Cas was trying to say to him sunk in; he grinned.

“Does that mean we can keep making out like teenagers in your car?” he asked, unable to stop the happy threads of amusement from leaving into his voice. 

There was a deep chuckle from the driver’s side of the car and Cas slid in closer. A beam of light illuminated his face and the heated, mischievous look he saw there made him shiver pleasantly. Cas pulled him in and Dean felt his lips move against his own as he spoke.

“Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, some sweet destiel fluffy-ness :)
> 
> This is the last completely written chapter but the good news is the next chapter is about 85% done so it shouldn't be too long until the next update (especially now that I have a computer that won't crap out on me every five seconds)


	11. Followed By A Night In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got over my writer's block, guys!

Dean jolted in his desk chair as his phone rang, all the figures he’d been thinking of scattering to all four corners of his mind. Sighing in frustration at the interruption, he glanced at the caller ID and grimaced.

Alder.

Knowing that he couldn’t not answer, Dean took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. “Winchester.”

“We need to discuss those numbers you sent me,” Adler said, not bothering with pleasantries though this wasn’t new. His usual tone of annoyingly jovial bravado was gone and he sounded angry. “These projections are far below the ones you gave me last week, why is the profit margin shrinking?!”

Resisting the urge to drop the phone and rub at his face in frustration took all the limited patience Dean had. He had been very clear when he’d submitted that report to Alder last week but apparently he might as well have been emailing a wall for all the good it did him.

“I did mention last week that since we were going to be provided with new figures this week that the margins might change,” Dean explained, yet again. He sat back in his chair, nodding and smiling reassuringly at Sarah as she apologetically set another stack of files on his already cluttered desk. “Unfortunately for us, the change was not in our favor.”

This earned him an angry snort. “The board is not going to like this, Winchester,” Alder grumbled. Dean heard the pained squeak of his boss’ chair over the line. “How are we supposed to bill this as a lucrative deal if we’re only making peanuts off of it?”

Dean opened his mouth to reiterate that the next set of figures might restore the margin and quite possibly increase it if his hunch was correct but Adler cut him off.

“I want these numbers redone,” he demanded, voice clipped and nasal in a way that had Dean flinching. “I don’t care if it takes you all night, you have to have missed something and I want those new numbers by tomorrow morning.”

“Ye--” Dean managed to say before a loud clatter signaled Adler hanging up on him. He hung up his own receiver calmly even though he wanted nothing more than to pull his phone off his desk and throw it at a wall. Instead, he settled for putting his head on his desk and groaning.

Fucking fuckity fuck.

Re-running and checking over those numbers _would_ take him most of the night. Now usually Dean wouldn’t shrink away from an all nighter, he’d done them before obviously, but tonight was the one night that he just couldn’t. He needed to be out of here by six so that he could go home and change to go to dinner and game night (or movie night, this was subject to change) at Charlie and Gilda’s place. There was no way he was going to miss it since there was something special about tonight.

Cas was going to be there.

A small knock on the door knocked him out of his miserable stupor. Instinctively knowing it was Sarah and way past the point of caring about decorum, Dean grumbled and rolled his head so he could see her standing in the doorway while his head remained smashed onto the desk.

“You don’t come bearing good news, do you?”

Sarah cringed sympathetically at his tired mumbling and walked further into the office. “Mr. Adler sent over a list of new parameters he’d like to use on your projections,” she said, her hands toying with the papers in her hand restlessly in a way that told Dean that she really didn’t want to have to convey whatever instructions she’d been told to. Sarah sighed and held out the papers. “He’d like a separate set of data for each scenario.”

The hesitant tone to her voice was was warning enough so Dean wasn’t surprised when he sat up and actually looked at the papers. 

Yep, there were about a dozen different outcomes that Adler wanted analyzed.

“If there is anything I can do to help---,” Sarah started to say earnestly but Dean stopped her with a small shake of his head.

“It’s okay, Sarah,” he said, smiling wearily at her. “This is something that I’ll have to do and besides, it’s Friday night; I know you have plans and you’ve more than earned your weekend.” Dean nodded his head towards the door where he could hear the sound of the other office inhabitants loudly getting around to leave for the weekend. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

It took a bit more encouragement but soon Sarah was on her way out, leaving Dean alone in his office. He worked for about an hour before taking a break and looking at the clock; he saw that he really needed to get going if he wanted to go home and change but one look at the half finished spreadsheet gave him pause. 

He really did need to get this done.

But he really wanted to go to Charlie’s.

Staring at his computer, he sighed.

 

Half an hour later found him standing at Charlie’s front door, his laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He debated with himself for some time as to whether he should knock but eventually decided that he was going to get his ass chewed out no matter what. It would be best to just accept his fate like a man so he raised his hand and knocked.

The door flew open as if Charlie had been waiting on the other side exactly at that moment; the bright grin on her face immediately darkened to a scowl as she saw his bag.

“I thought I told you, I may love computers but that laptop is not welcome in this house,” she said, glaring at the offending objected icily even as she stepped aside to let him in. 

Dean slouched through, shoulders slumped tiredly. “I know, I know,” he said as he raised his arms placatingly. He kicked off his uncomfortable work shoes, there hadn’t been time to go home and change, and unloosened his tie. “I’m really sorry, Charlie but Adler dropped a work bomb on me this afternoon and if I don’t have this shit done by tomorrow morning, it’ll be my ass.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes. “That dude needs to be taken down a few notches or ten,” she shot back as they settled in the living room. Dean set his computer on the coffee table but didn’t turn it on yet since it was highly possible Charlie would smash it with a hammer. “I’m serious, Dean. This is just ridiculous; it’s Friday night.”

Rubbing at his face, Dean nodded. “I know but what am I supposed to do, he’s my boss.”

“You tell him to fuck off in whatever way polite business people do that sort of thing,” she said, crossing her arms. Dean shook his head and started to boot up his laptop; maybe if he was fast enough, he could get a few things done and that way he could enjoy his night.

Charlie sighed and left him to it, saying that she was going to help Gilda with the homemade pizza. Dean didn’t really hear her, he was already eyeballs deep in the third projection. On the bright side, he seemed to be making great time so it was highly likely that he would be able to finish all but two of the sets of number before they ate; that would leave only another two to do and he could just get up a bit early to do those…

A knock sounded at the door, interrupting his thought process.

“Dean? Could you get that please?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Dean said as he walked towards the door, his eyes glued to the printout Sarah had given him. He absentmindedly opened the door; it went to show how distracted he was that he was surprised to see Cas standing on the other side.

Cas smiled but it faltered as his eyes flickered from the paper in Dean’s hand to the mini-workstation on Charlie’s coffee table. “Did you bring work with you?”

“Oh...um...kinda,” Dean said sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stood to the side to let Cas in. “Work got a bit nuts and well, I figured, it wouldn’t hurt to bring work home just this once…”

“Hold it right there, Dean Winchester.”

Dean winced as Charlie’s stern voice sounded out behind him. Turning around slowly, he saw Charlie and Gilda standing in the living room, arms crossed and faces disappointed. He looked back at Cas to see that he was glancing back and forth between the girls and him, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Charlie advanced on him until she was close enough to prod him in his chest. “If we’re going to transition from small white lies to full on whoppers, I’m done enabling this bad habit of yours, Dean,” she said sternly. For a brief moment, Dean saw a flash of the Domme underneath Charlie’s usually carefree and goofy personality. She pointed to a startled looking Cas. “You two have been going out for a while now and he deserves to know about that hell hole you work for. Maybe he’ll be able to talk some sense into you even if Gilda and I can’t.”

There was a strained silence.

“Dean,” Cas said softly but with a firmness that showed he wouldn’t be brushed off. A hand tugged on Dean’s sleeve to turn him around. Dean stared into Cas’ concerned face, “is there something you need to tell me?”

Heart pounding and palms sweating, Dean weighed his options. On one hand, he wished he had laser vision that would make Charlie burst into flames for making this happen but he knew that this had been coming for a while. Charlie had been telling him as much on an almost daily basis. He should have known that he couldn’t keep his hectic work schedule a secret forever.

He just wish he could have had a bit more time before he had to reveal that unfortunate fact.

“I may have um...fibbed a--a little bit about how often I uh...bring home work,” Dean said sheepishly, trying to maintain eye contact. Forcing his face into a smile he didn’t really feel, he looked at Cas and held out his arms to his sides. “I kinda bring work home every night.”

Cas’ head tilted to the side and his gaze narrowed. “I thought you said that you were working extra hours at work so you didn’t have to bring work home,” he said slowly, crossing his arms. “Did you lie to me?”

Swallowing hard, Dean shook his head. He was vaguely aware of Charlie and Gilda retreating to the kitchen to leave them alone. “No, I didn’t lie about the hours. I really do work crazy hours,” he said awkwardly as he avoided Cas’ gaze. “I just uh--I just may have left the whole bringing work home part out.” Cas frowned and Dean rushed to add, “I didn’t want you to stop wanting to go out with me. I thought that if you thought I was working a lot, you’d think I’m too tired to do anything. You’re like Charlie, all worried about people’s stress and shit, and I figured if you knew, you’d cut back on how much time we spent together.”

By the time Dean was done speaking, his chest was heaving ever so slightly and his breath was coming quickly. This state of affairs wasn’t helped by Cas’ continued silence or by the stoic expression on his face. As the seconds ticked by, the tension in Dean’s stomach got tighter and tighter until he was just about to beg for Cas’ forgiveness. 

“How could you think that I would stop wanting to see you because of work?” Cas finally asked. He looked genuinely confused and slightly hurt. “I won’t lie, I think it isn’t good for someone to work as much as I now realize you are but I wouldn’t limit our time together for anything.” He paused for a second before reaching a hand up to cup Dean’s cheek, his eyes finding Dean’s. “Unless you want to that is, though I suspect that isn’t the case.”

The warmth of Cas’ palm on his cheek, along with his words, went a long way towards untying the horrible mess of nerves in Dean’s stomach. He looked at Cas earnestly. “So...you’re not mad at me for lying?”

Cas grimaced slightly but it wasn’t malicious before he sighed. “I must admit, I’m not happy that you lied,” he said slowly as if carefully considering his words but Dean still flinched anyway. Cas ran his thumb soothingly over his cheekbone. “You’re obviously under quite a bit of stress and thought lying was the only solution and I can tell you feel guilty.” He paused as his gaze became more serious and Dean’s stomach tightened and he waited for the obvious ‘but.’ “But, I want to take this opportunity to impress upon you how important trust is to me. Good relationships are built on trust and I think we both deserve honesty in ours.”

Realizing that Cas was talking about their relationship in present tense, Dean perked up again and nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I totally get that,” he said, attempting to put every ounce of sincerity he had into his response. Dean reached out to place his own hand on Cas’ cheek and met those deep blue eyes. “I swear, I won’t lie to you again, Cas. It was dumb of me to do it in the first place; I want this to work.”

He could tell he was sounding a bit desperate but Dean didn’t care. It had already been a long and stressful day and the thought of losing Cas due to his own stupidity was too much. Dean was just so happy that Cas wasn’t mad at him; Cas’ disappointment held its own special sting but it was a hell of a lot better than being kicked to the curb.

“And it is working,” Cas said with a smile that almost completely obliterated Dean’s worries for a few moments. “We’re still in the beginning stages, I think we’re entitled to a few missteps here and there.” When Dean nodded in agreement, Cas leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips that had every bad thing that had happened to Dean washing away. “So let’s just call this a learning experience and move on, okay?”

Unable to contain his happiness at what a lucky son of a bitch he was, Dean pulled Cas into a tight hug, burying his face into his neck and breathing in the herbal smell that clung to him. “God, yes,” he sighed. His lips brushed the skin in the crook of Cas’ neck. “Anything you want, Cas.”

“Well, I for one, want to eat pizza if you boys are done with your moment.”

Startled by Charlie’s sudden appearance, Dean and Cas sprung apart. Charlie was standing in the doorway to the kitchen; her arms were crossed and she was smiling smugly. Gilda appeared behind her and shook her head. “I tried to keep her occupied but you can only control this whirlwind for so long.”

“No problem, Gilda,” Cas said, slipping an arm around Dean’s waist. He leaned into the contact happily. “We’re okay now. Sorry to keep everyone from dinner.”

Charlie waved his apology away. “It’s not like I’m totally blameless,” she admitted as she gestured for everyone to head to the kitchen. “Besides, I’m just glad everyone is on the same page. Now let’s eat, I’m starving.”

The rest of evening was spent eating pizza and watching TV. Dean did do a bit of work on his projections and, in light of the pre-dinner events, Charlie kept her comments to herself. She did glare at Dean’s laptop a bit but Dean found it easy to ignore. 

In fact, when he got to do it while sitting between the vee of Cas’ legs and leaning against his chest, working on Alder’s stupid assignment was actually almost pleasant.

 

Dean managed to make the feel good high from that night at Charlie’s last all the way until yoga class the following Thursday. It didn’t hurt that Alder hadn’t bothered him with anything too demanding for most of the week. Though this had more to do with the fact his boss had gone to some fancy leadership conference for most of the week but Dean wasn’t going to question his good luck, especially when it meant that he managed to get to class a few minutes early.

Class was relaxing as usual and Dean couldn’t help but preen a little bit every time he caught Cas watching him a bit longer than usual. Thankfully he was too busy concentrating on his poses to get hot and bothered despite Cas and his suspiciously frequent adjustments to Dean’s positioning. 

“Would you like to come over to my place tomorrow night,” Cas asked after class was over. Dean looked up from his bag and smiled; Cas, rubbing at the back of his neck, looked downright bashful and it made him feel a strange mix of smug and happy warmth. “I thought we could order something for dinner and have a nice night in watching a movie.” He paused but before Dean could say that he was definitely up for that, Cas began babbling nervously. “Or we could do something else if you wanted, I think there’s a movie theater near my apartment---”

Standing up, Dean scoped out the room to make sure they were alone before silencing Cas with a kiss. “I’m completely and utterly down for spending a quiet evening in,” he said with a grin as he ran his hands up and down Cas’ sides. “Knowing I get to hang out with you will make tomorrow fly right on by.”

And to Dean’s surprise, he was right.

Friday flew by in an almost pleasant fashion instead of disappearing in a flash of problems and stress. Sarah had been skeptical when he’d said that he was going to leave on time that night and Dean had relished the shock on her face when he walked out with her. He drove home at a slightly faster speed than normal and hurried to take a shower. Cas had told him to stop by at any time since he didn’t have any afternoon appointments or classes and Dean wasn’t going to say no to extra time for their date.

An excited tingle shot down Dean’s spine as he realized that he was going to be alone with Cas in his apartment. His hands slowly soaped up his chest, his skin humming with low excitement, as he imagined what sort of shenanigans they might get up to. It had been a while since Cas had said they needed to take things slow; Dean hoped that Cas’ inviting him over to his place was a sign that he was ready to move things forward. 

God, he really really hoped this was a sign.

Despite his eagerness towards their night in, Dean felt a twinge of nerves as he navigated his way down the streets to Cas’ place. It had been a long time, a shamefully long time, since he’d done anything with another person; all of his recent exploits were solely one man shows. That was probably the reason behind all the nightmare visions of him making a move and being rejected again or not picking up on Cas’ signals and looking like an idiot or making an ass of himself by being rusty...or even worse things...

_No, think good thoughts,_ Dean reprimanded himself as he took the elevator up to Cas’ apartment. He glared at his blurry reflection in the metal in front of him. _This is going to be a great night even if we don’t get anywhere near_ that _sort of thing. No freaking out about shit that probably isn’t going to happen._

Even with this lackluster pep talk, Dean’s palms were slick with sweat when he finally made it to Cas’ apartment door. He took a deep breath in a last ditch effort to calm the hell down before he knocked. Luckily Cas opened the door before he had a chance to start worrying that maybe he’d gotten the time wrong or was on the wrong floor.

Seeing Cas’ smiling face was the perfect antidote to his anxious nerves.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, beaming as he opened the door wide and gestured for him to enter. “Shoes on or off, it doesn’t matter to me as long as you’re comfortable.”

Dean made note of Cas’ sock clad feet and toed off his own shoes. The plush carpet under his feet felt really good. Cas took his jacket and hung it up in a closet just down the hall. 

“I took the liberty of ordering pizza,” he said as he led Dean down the hall and into the living area. Much like his yoga studio, Cas’ apartment was simple but comfortably furnished. There were worn armchairs and a well used but soft looking couch and enough blankets and pillows to more than adequately cover all of them.

“Pizza sounds great,” Dean replied with a smile, still nervous but there was definitely a sense of calm taking over now that he was actually here with Cas. “Your place is really nice, Cas.”

Cas returned his smile and sat down on the one end of the sofa, patting the seat next to him invitingly, as if Dean hadn’t already been planning on snagging that exact spot. “It’s home,” he replied as Dean sat down, “I learned a long time ago that I preferred comfort over style.”

“I like it,” Dean said, enjoying the comfort of the sofa. It was definitely a sofa he could see himself spending a lot of time lounging on if given the chance since it was much more comfortable than his own. Though this may have more to do with the fact that it was located in Cas’ apartment. He looked over to see Cas smiling at him.

Now that he was sitting in the apartment, Dean started to feel a creeping awkward feeling sneaking around the corners of his mind but luckily for him, Cas asked him if he wanted to watch some TV. Dean nodded, happy for something to focus on besides his own nerves.

They decided not to watch a movie yet since Cas figured the pizza would be arriving soon and ended up channel surfing aimlessly. To Dean’s never ending joy, Cas settled closer to him on the couch after leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table. He probably would have scooched nearer if he hadn’t been worried about seeming desperate.

_There’ll be time enough for that later_ , he thought to himself. 

True to Cas’ guess, they’d been trying to decide whether to watch old episodes of M*A*S*H or Friends when there was a knock at the door. Cas went to get the pizza, leaving Dean to sit on the couch for the few minutes it took to pay the delivery guy.

Dean had been getting up from the couch, prepared to go to the kitchen to eat, when Cas dropped the pizza box unceremoniously onto the coffee table. “I’ll get us some drinks and plates,” Cas said before disappearing again, his voice echoing from the kitchen. “I’m not really big on eating at the kitchen table in case you were curious.”

“Oh, I tend to eat in the living room too,” Dean admitted, taking his glass of soda with a quick ‘thank you’. “Mainly because I’m working while I eat and it’s easier to spread my papers on the couch and coffee table than the kitchen table.”

He didn’t miss the faint creasing of Cas’ brow at the mention of his working at home but to his credit, Cas didn’t say anything besides telling him to dig in which they both did with gusto. Dean was very pleased to find that the pizza was fucking delicious and this fact really put a damper on his attempt to eat like a proper adult since all he wanted to do was shove slices into his mouth.

It did make him feel better, and slightly amused, to see Cas apparently felt the same.

“My apologies for my lack of table manners,” Cas said later. They were both slouched on the couch, the remains of the pizza before them on the coffee table. Not much was left. Cas looked over at him sheepishly. “I may have skipped lunch today and that pizza place happens to be one of my favorites. I find it hard to control myself around their food.”

Dean chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “No worries, Cas,” he said reassuringly. “I wasn’t much better but then I didn’t have much of a lunch either. Plus that was really really good pizza.”

“Still, thank you for not judging my atrocious eating habits,” Cas said. He leaned over and gave Dean a kiss on the cheek.

“If that’s what I get for not being judgemental, I’ll never judge any of your bad habits,” Dean teased. This earned him a playful scowl but another kiss so it was really a win in his book. Reaching his arms above his head, Dean stretched. “So what are we going to watch tonight?”

The answer to that question made Dean want to pull Cas’ face between his hands and kiss him senseless. It had been so long (too long to be honest) since he’d gotten to watch any movie and having Cas pick one of his favorites was too perfect for words. 

A night sitting on a comfy couch with Cas watching Star Wars was exactly what he needed.

That’s not to say that Dean didn’t make it feel awkward for a little bit. Logically he knew that Cas probably expected them to sit close to each other at the very least, possibly even for them to snuggle up together, but Dean couldn’t make his body close the gap between him and Cas. That foot of open space was just too intimidating as his brain not so helpfully reminded him of the incident in the car, throwing him into a semi-anxious spiral.

What if Cas didn’t want him in his space?

What if he only wanted a nice evening watching movies at a respectable distance?

What if Dean had bad breath?

A sigh shook Dean out of his pile of panicked thoughts and he found himself being pulled towards Cas’ side of the couch. “I can practically hear you psyching yourself out, Dean,” Cas said, shifting so they were pressed together enough that he could wrap an arm around his shoulder. “Relax and don’t over think. Just enjoy.”

Dean nodded and smiled, enjoying the warmth seeping into his one side. After a brief second where he pondered the intelligence of the action, he rested his head on Cas’ shoulder. The angle was somewhat strained but the happy hum that echoed in his ears made it completely worth the future crick in his neck.

Throughout the rest of the movie, their positions didn’t really change except for Cas kicking his feet up on the coffee table and Dean curling his legs up onto the couch. There wasn’t much conversation either which was a blessing and a curse in Dean’s opinion.

It was a blessing in that Dean didn’t run the risk of saying anything stupid and making an ass out of himself but it was definitely a curse since the lack of conversation meant that he free to be hyper focused on anywhere his body touched Cas. The warmth at the back of his neck and around his shoulders, the muscled shoulder under his cheek, the press of their legs next to each other, and every small twitch that Cas made during the movie had Dean’s nerves sparking whether in hopeful anticipation or nerves, he wasn’t quite sure. What he was sure of was that he wanted to crawl into Cas’ lap and make out like a horny teenager but Dean was able to ignore that urge.

Until Cas’ hand landed on his thigh.

If Dean had thought he’d been hyperfocused before, that was nothing compared to how he felt with Cas’ hand on his leg. Every ounce of sexual tension seemed to wash over him a once and he was damn lucky it wasn’t quite enough to make him noticeably hard, especially since he had a hand that was not his own mere inches from his crotch. Pulling on some of his yoga training, Dean focused on his breathing in an attempt to calm down.

And then Cas started a brushing motion with his thumb.

Dean felt that he couldn’t be blamed for the strangled half groan that slipped out of him then.

“I wondered how long it would take to make you break,” Cas said, breaking the near quiet of the room, his voice filled with amusement. The movie continued to play unnoticed by the two of them.

“You were doing that on purpose,” Dean gaped, looking over at Cas as he started to understand. Cas was smirking at him and chuckling lightly, his hand still resting heavily on Dean’s thigh. Dean scowled half heartedly. “You’re such a tease, Cas.”

“Aww, don’t be that way,” Cas cooed, if one could call it that when the voice making it rumbled like thunder, unable to wipe the grin off his face. “You’ve been so uptight and stiff all night, I needed to do something to help snap you out of it.” Something warm and hot creeped into his gaze, something that had Dean’s heartbeat speeding up slightly. “And correct me if I’m wrong but I believe I’m not a tease if I plan on following through.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Dean had been hoping that tonight’s date would head in this very direction, he probably would have made Cas work for it a bit for being a little shit. Instead however, weeks of pent up lust pushed past any worries or doubts his brain might have come up with and he was pulling Cas’ face towards his own. 

God, that was good.

For all his attempts at lightheartedness, Cas kissed like he had that first night in front of the bar, deep and powerful enough to take Dean’s breath away. It was hard to believe that Dean was the one who physically initiated the kiss from the way Cas took over; not that Dean minded in the slightest. He found himself being pulled insistently into Cas’ lap and he went oh so willingly.

Shivers wracked Dean’s body at the feel of those strong hands gripping his hips and pulling him down; any embarrassment he had at being so excited already dissipated quickly as he ground down tentatively in Cas’ lap and felt a bulge. Just to be sure, he wriggled again.

Yep, definitely a bulge.

“Who’s being a tease now,” Cas sighed, pulling his mouth away just long enough to speak. His voice was already getting a bit breathless. 

Dean’s highly intelligent remark was wiped from his mind as a smartass mouth started to attack the bolt of his jaw at the same a few finger tips slipped under the hem of his t-shirt. The small touch was enough to get Dean’s heart racing to the point it pounded in his ears and he almost missed Cas whispering, “is this alright?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, reaching down to grasp Cas’ hands and push them tighter against him. “Really super okay.”

Cas chuckled and ran his palms up Dean’s bare skin so his hands were pressed against his ribs before kissing him again. Incredibly turned on, Dean began to rock his hips in Cas’ lap, unconsciously moving with the rhythm of their mouths. In fact he didn’t quite register the fact he was slowly moving from innocent twitching to full on grinding until Cas moved his hands down to pull Dean’s hips down firmly.

“Shit,” Dean breathed, shuddering at the pressure on his groin. He leaned forward and twined his fingers in Cas’ hair to kiss him soundly before breaking away to murmur, “That feels so freaking awesome.”

“Yeah,” Cas hummed, burying his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. One of the hands gripping his hips slid forward until Cas’ fingers were brushing the skin above the button on his jeans. Dean’s eyes snapped open and he saw Cas looking at him, gaze full of heat. 

Dean reached up and cupped Cas’ face in his hands. “If---the next words---out of---your mouth,” Dean said breathlessly between kisses, “are--am I okay, the answer is---hell fucking yes.”

The laugh that slipped from Cas at this response was so damn filthy, Dean was honestly shocked he didn’t come on the spot.

As it was, he was quickly distracted from that thought by Cas skillfully opening the front of his jeans and slowly, slowly enough that Dean glared at him for teasing, slid his hand down the front of his pants. Dean inhaled sharply and shuddered when warm strong fingers wrapped around him; Cas wasted no time and began to stroke him softly.

Every instance of sexual tension that had ever occurred between the two of them hit Dean like a freight train. He’d given up on kissing Cas and panted into the skin of his neck, catching whiffs of the spicy herbal smell that clung to him. Dean moaned low in his throat as Cas jerked him off skillfully and he cursed his insanely long dry spell when he felt the tension building in his gut.

In an attempt to distract himself, Dean fumbled between them for the button on Cas’ pants; his fingers tugging at the zipper until he could slip a hand down into his underwear. He shivered though whether this was from the particularly delicious stroke from Cas on his own cock or the first time getting his hands around Cas’ dick, Dean wasn’t entirely sure. Later he would figure it was most likely option 2 because it was in that moment that he knew he’d been right all along.

Cas was indeed hung.

A deep groan burst out of Cas when he started to caress his hardened flesh and Dean may have preened a bit at that. This smugness didn’t last long since Cas retaliated by working him over even better, something Dean had figured wasn’t possible a few moments earlier. 

Not surprisingly he soon found that glorious edge and he teetered on it, part of him not wanting to step over because coming meant that it would over and Cas’ hands wouldn’t be on him any more. Dean bit his lip and concentrated on jerking Cas’ cock; maybe if he didn’t think about Cas smoothly stroking him, about those elegant hands gripping him and toying with every single sensitive spot he had, just maybe he could hold off.

But then the talking started.

“So hot,” Cas murmured, his lips brushing the skin of Dean’s ear. “So fucking beautiful. You’re trying to hold back but you’re there aren’t you? It’s okay, Dean. Let it happen. I want to see it. Want to see all that tension seep out of you. Want to make you feel good.”

Dean couldn’t tell if he’d stopped breathing or if he was panting like he’d been running for his life. Unable to concentrate, he abandoned Cas’ dick in order to grip those broad shoulders tightly, rocking frantically in Cas’ lap in order to fuck up into the pressure of his hand. He knew he looked pathetically desperate but he couldn’t help it, every word just stoked the fire burning across his skin and he _needed_ so goddamn bad. Cas was right, he was close, so very very close but something, something was missing; he just needed…

“Come for me, Dean.”

That was it. That was the missing piece. Dean choked on air as the coiling tension finally broke at the sound of Cas’ rumbled command and he cried out garbled nonsense that might have been “Cas” as he came. Every nerve in his body sparked and jumped at the slow rolling wave of heat that washed over him as Cas’ hand worked his cock until Dean couldn’t take it anymore; the ministrations stopped when a small whine eked out of him. 

Cas was still hard and leaking between them and despite the fact his arms felt like lead, Dean attempted to reach for it, wanting to make Cas feel just as good but his hand was knocked away. Still slumped against Cas, his forehead resting on his shoulder, Dean watched as Cas grasped his own cock and stroked himself.

A thrill shot through him as he realized it was the same hand that he’d used on him and it was still covered in Dean’s come. His spent dick gave a twitch at this.

It only took a few skillful tugs before Cas’ body tensed beneath him and Dean experienced the unforgettable sight of Cas, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open wide as he groaned deeply, finding his own orgasm. That memory would take a permanent space in the annals of Dean’s spank bank and he doubted there was anything that could replace it.

Having haven’t had a decent orgasm with an actual partner in a long time, Dean found himself incredibly boneless. He knew he should probably get up and offer to find a washcloth or something to clean their mess but he just couldn’t find it in himself to move. Instead he slumped even more into Cas, probably making the mess between them even worse, and wrapped his arms around the warm body beneath him. To his surprise, Cas didn’t protest; he merely shifted so that Dean could settle more comfortably and turned so he could softly kiss the top of Dean’s head. 

How long they sat there, Dean in Cas’ lap, their clothes in disarray with come all over, Dean couldn’t tell but it was long enough Dean felt like he’d start to drift off soon. In fact, he was so out of it, it took him awhile to register Cas talking to him.

“--ean, Dean. I’m going to get up now,” Cas said, his clean hand carding through Dean’s hair gently. “I’ll get us something to clean up with, you can stay here, okay?”

“Hmm...okay,” Dean hummed, still a little braindead but regaining enough thought processes to shift out of Cas’ lap. He grimaced at the feel of cooling come smeared everywhere and hoped he’d avoided making too much of a mess out of his clothes.

After he’d successfully moved, Cas got up and padded way only to return a while later. He’d changed his clothes and Dean flushed as he realized he must have made a mess of Cas’ clothes and his own. Cas was carrying a washcloth and a small bundle. 

“I brought you a few things,” Cas explained, setting the clothes down onto a bare spot on the coffee table. He then proceeded to clean Dean up, wiping his skin gently with the warm wet cloth. “I figured you wouldn’t want to wear dirty clothes home and I have some stuff that would fit you.”

Dean knew he should protest. It was just a little bit of come and he’d be going right home but the idea of wearing Cas’ clothes...he just couldn’t pass that up. The contented smile that dawned on Cas’ face when he accepted the t-shirt and sweats helped to justify his selfish desire to change into Cas’ extremely comfy looking clothes even though he could probably get away with wearing his own home. Cas left to put the washcloth away, leaving him to change but Dean had the distinct feeling Cas had wanted to stay.

He may have preened a bit at the thought that Cas wanted to see more of him.

 

It wasn’t until he’d changed and Cas had returned to the living room that Dean felt the awkwardness kick in. 

What now?

Was the date over now? 

Should he stay or should he leave? 

Would Cas want to talk or would it be best to call it a night? 

Did he take his dirty clothes with him? 

He sat stiffly on the couch, his hands gripping the edge of the cushion as he studied Cas’ face for any indication on what he needed to do. Dean hoped that if Cas wanted him to go now that they’d had the sexual portion of their date, he’d be obvious about it so he could figure it out easily. Cas gathered Dean’s clothes and tossed them into a pile on the floor before sitting down next to him again.

Dean froze involuntarily, not sure what he should do but Cas only opened his arm expectantly. 

“I’m not going to kick you out, Dean,” he said, a reassuring smile on his lips. He nodded at the TV. “I’m not the type to come and run, or force my partner to run in this case. We still have to finish our movie.”

For once, Dean didn’t question his good fortune; he quickly shimmied over to press himself against Cas, snuggling up to him in a way that he knew was more than a bit needy but he justified it by noting that Cas seemed to relish in the seating arrangement. In fact, a broad hand gently pushed on his head, encouraging him to rest it on Cas’ shoulder before said hand tangled its fingers in his hair and proceeding to card through it soothingly. 

All the nerves and anxious thoughts that had reared their ugly heads a few minutes ago vanished and Dean was able to relax. He didn’t really watch the movie since he was too busy using his few functioning brain cells to catalogue everything about the current moment for later review but he was able to come to one conclusion.

Charlie had definitely been right. Finding a good quality guy had been the right way to go. Who really needed a Dom when you could have this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Sexy times at last!
> 
> I have to say, I surprised myself with how fast this chapter got out since I've been experiencing some pretty bad writer's block lately. See I seem to have this weird end-of-chapter writer's block so once I made it though the end of this chapter, I immediately started writing the end of the next one so maybe (just maybe) I can stay on a roll. We'll have to cross our fingers and see.
> 
> Oh and I finally broke down and started coming up with chapter titles since it was getting pretty hard to figure out what happens in which chapter, haha


	12. And A Shocking Revelation

Several weeks had passed since that perfect night on Cas’ couch and Dean could safely say things couldn’t be better.

Well, in regards to his relationship with Cas that is. 

Work was an entirely different matter.

If Dean had thought Zachariah had been a grade A pain in his ass before, that was nothing compared to how he acted now that they were getting closer to crunch time. He’d been burning the midnight oil for weeks in order to revamp the Stevenson project and, while he was making pretty damn good progress, he also had to deal with Zachariah hovering over his shoulder. 

It might not have been quite as bad if the guy was actually helping him but of course that would be beneath him. Zachariah seemed to like popping into his office unannounced most days just to eat up precious work time with his rambling premonitions that their current strategy was going to pay off immensely before lecturing him on the hazards of wasting his (Zachariah’s, naturally) work time before leaving to shoot golf with upper management. 

The only positive was that they’d seemed to move past the point where Dean was being asked to redo every single number in the proposal every other day. Now they were just on checking, rechecking, and checking one last time. Dean was even cautiously hoping that the project would be done in a few days which would put them a month or so ahead of schedule and he couldn’t help feeling a sense of relief.

He’d actually get to spend more time with Cas that did involve him working on his computer in Cas’ apartment while his boyfriend massaged his shoulders. Just the thought of getting some actual free time to himself to enjoy with Cas made him so happy he could cry.

However, as he looked at the email he’d just opened, Dean wanted to cry for a completely different reason. 

Or maybe hit something repeatedly until it shattered into a billion pieces.

_Winchester,_

_I was looking at the master files on the server at home last night and I accidentally deleted them. I.T. says they tried to get them back but the files were too corrupted to fix. We’re going to need to start from scratch but I don’t think it’ll be that difficult to recreate. We made the proposal once, we can do it again, haha._

_Forward me the files once you get them sorted out._

_Z. Adler_

It was official. Dean and this godforsaken project were cursed.

He was obviously doomed to keep running the same numbers over and over again until the end of time just for his asshole boss to find new ways to destroy all the hard work he’d accomplished. With Cas’ voice reminding him to breathe, Dean slowly exited his email and leaned back.

Breathe In.

Alder only deleted the final proposal. There were still the rough outlines on his computer.

Breathe Out.

But he’d been working on the final proposal for three weeks now. Even with the raw numbers, it would take at least that long to redo.

Breathe In.

And he’d fallen behind on his other accounts doing it being under the apparently false assumption that once he was done with the Stevenson proposal, he’d have time to get caught up on them.

Breathe Out. 

He was currently sitting on at least two weeks’ worth of work that needed done.

Breathe I---fuck it.

In a moment of sheer frustration, Dean gruffly closed out all the windows on his computer; he ignored the sixty unread emails in his inbox and, after carefully and deliberately saving all his work, shut his computer down. It was only six thirty and he’d been planning on staying until at least eight but his brain wasn’t much use now any way; it was too full of nearly blind rage at having his work carelessly erased with the tap of a blundering finger that shouldn’t have been messing around with the files in the first place.

So, with his stomach burning with anger and his laptop bag slung over his shoulder, Dean left the office. The security guard at the desk started to wish him a good night but stopped mid sentence when he saw Dean’s face and settled for a nod which Dean returned tightly.

He strode purposefully towards his car and, once inside, pulled out his phone to send a text.

_To Cas: Are you free tonight?_

His phone pinged right away.

_From Cas: Yes, feel free to stop by :)_

Reading those few words went a long way to helping douse the raging fire in his stomach and Dean smiled. A night with Cas, even if it would be only for an hour or two, would be just the thing to make up for that disgustingly awful email he’d just read.

 

Traffic was thankfully light and soon he was walking up to Cas’ apartment door. Cas had left the door unlocked for him so Dean let himself in and kicked off his shoes, loosening his tie with one hand.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas called out, his voice echoing from the kitchen. “I made some BLTs if you’re hungry.”

Tension seeped out of Dean’s muscles with every step he took towards the kitchen. Just being in Cas’ apartment had helped lift some of the pressing weight from his shoulders and the rest of it evaporated almost completely as he saw Cas padding around in the kitchen.

He was wearing a loose tank top and shorts and Dean could tell he must have had an afternoon class since his hair was still wet from his shower. Pulled to him like a magnet, Dean walked over and wrapped himself around him, burying his face in Cas’ neck. That nervous little voice in his head questioned as to whether this was appropriate but at this point, the rest of Dean didn’t care. Besides, deep down Dean knew Cas wouldn’t give a shit.

“Bad day,” Cas asked, patting Dean’s arm soothingly while plating sandwiches with his free hand. Dean nodded, rubbing his face against the clean fabric of Cas’ shirt; Cas hummed. “I don’t suppose you’d want to talk about it?”

“Not now,” Dean said with a sigh, arms tightening slightly. “Maybe later.”

Cas sighed that tired sad sigh of his but didn’t push. He rubbed Dean’s hands and tugged them away so he could turn in his arms. His eyes studied him before smiling. “Well, how about you change out of those work clothes,” he asked, plucking at Dean’s dress shirt. “It’s going to be hard to decompress wearing that.” He paused and leaned in to give Dean a peck on the cheek before waving his hand toward the hall. “You can borrow some comfy clothes. Why don’t you go pick out something from my closet and then we can eat and watch some TV?”

“You have no idea how great that sounds,” Dean sighed but made no move towards the hall. He was finding it very hard to let go of Cas; he was just so warm and being close to him was soothing every frayed nerve he had.

Realizing that Dean wouldn’t move if left to his own devices, Cas chuckled and pulled out of his arms despite Dean’s grumbling. “The faster you go and change, the faster we can eat and sit together on the couch,” Cas reminded him with a smile.

Dean whined tiredly. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Go on, get moving,” Cas said, amusement in his voice. He added to this with a light playful slap to Dean’s ass that would have made Dean blush if he weren’t so tired. 

Mumbling playfully under his breath, Dean shuffled off to Cas’ room.

He’d never really been in Cas’ bedroom; Cas had given him a tour of the apartment on his second visit but, out of respect for personal space, Dean had only gone just inside the doorway. The small glimpse he’d had of it was enough to confirm Dean’s guess that Cas’ room was just a cozy as the rest of his apartment and add to the myriad of fantasies he’d been having about having lazy days in bed together. A few of these fantasies flashed through his head as he padded across the carpet towards the closet.

Yeah, someday he’d get that but for now, comfy couch time with Cas awaited. 

It took a bit to figure out where Cas kept his sweats and t-shirts but soon he was tugging out something to wear. He began to turn around to leave the closet but, since he was too busy daydreaming again (this time about having comfy relaxing time in Cas’ big bed), Dean ran right into a heavy solid object.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled, a hand flying to his outer thigh. Dean massaged the soon to be sore spot on his leg, cursing his lack of awareness, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the already precariously tilted box start to tip over.

Lunging forward, Dean attempted to stop the inevitable only to end up grimacing as a heavy thud echoed in the small space. Then, to make matters worse, there was a second thump as the lid fell open.

Mortification washed over Dean as he dropped to his knees, the sweatpants and t-shirt abandoned on the floor.

Fuck, this was so bad.

Cas was going to think he was snooping on him or something.

Shit, he should have just asked Cas to get him the clothes; he shouldn’t be in Cas’ personal space.

What was wrong with him?!

_Calm down_ , Dean berated himself, taking a deep breath that Cas would have been proud of to see. His nerves calmed slightly as actual reality started to sink in and make sense. _Cas won’t be mad, he wouldn’t have sent you in here if he didn’t want you to see anything. It’s just his closet and this is just a box of---_

Dean blinked rapidly as his newly clear mind began to process what exactly he was seeing. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again in hopes that what he thought was on the floor was just a figment of his imagination. 

But the spreader bar and cuffs remained laying on the floor.

“No fucking way,” Dean said, gaze glued to the impossible items laying on the floor of Cas' closet. He had to be hallucinating them because there was no way Cas was into this stuff too.

Was there?

Dean reached out to gently run his fingers over the cold metal of the spreader bar; the touch had his skin heating up as he imagined what it would be like to be have the cuffs strapped to his ankles, spreading his legs wide...

"Dean? Did you find the clothes---"

Cas voice sounded in the bedroom and Dean's heart raced as he realized he wasn't alone anymore. How long had he been kneeling here, lost in fantasies of what he and Cas could get up to with toys like this? Apparently long enough for Cas to come looking for him.

Shit!

The footsteps came closer to the closet and, before Dean could even begin to move to shove his puzzling discoveries back where they belonged, a shadow fell over him.

"Do you need---oh," Cas' question trailed off into a soft surprised sound.

Dean whirled around, knocking his knee on the box (again). A million apologizes were on the tip of his tongue; pleas for forgiveness he hoped would wipe away the angry look that was bound to be on Cas' face at this betrayal of personal space...

Only...the upset, betrayed look that Dean expected to see on his boyfriend's face wasn't there. Instead, Dean was surprised to see something that looked remarkably like…

Guilt?

Why would Cas be feeling guilty, his brain asked as it ran through any possible reason that Cas would feel bad about Dean being a creepy creep. Obviously none of these made any sense; it wasn't as if he were the one going through someone else's things.

"Dean, I am so sorry," Cas blurted out, preventing Dean from giving his own apology. Cas backed up to sit at the bottom of his big head and rubbed at his forehead nervously. "I didn't want you to find out this way. I was trying to keep that part off to the side for now, like Charlie suggested---"

Cas cut himself off again by slapping a hand to his own mouth. It was obvious he hadn't meant to say that.

And Dean could see why.

"What do you mean 'like Charlie suggested'," he asked, his own guilt rapidly disappearing. Dean stood up and crossed his arms; his stomach plummeted as a sickening thought crossed his mind in a flash. "And what does Charlie have anything to do with the fact that obviously you're into kinky stuff too?"

For the first time since he'd met him, Cas looked entirely out of his element. 

Cas swallowed hard and looked up at him; Dean tried not to let the fact that he looked like nervous schoolboy distract him. Something was up here and Dean was going to find out what.

"Charlie and I," Cas started to say before pausing to collect his thoughts (and a bit of courage if Dean wasn't mistaken. "When Charlie approached me about dating you, she told me that you are into BDSM too and suggested that I keep my interests under wraps for a bit."

Dean's stomach flipped unpleasantly. "So wait, Charlie knows that you're into kinky shit?" He paused as another part of Cas’ response caught his attetnion. “And she _told you_ that I’m into it too?”

Nodding, Castiel stood up. He walked past Dean to open the large box to display a wide range of sex toys. "Yes, she knew that I am a Dom and told me that you were intereted in being a sub."

Wait, Cas is a Dom, Dean's mind echoed. All his thoughts were in chaos now but one thought broke through the rest and it had him drawing up with surprise.

"So you mean to tell me that Charlie _knew_ you’re a Dom before she even set me up with you," Dean interrupted. "She never mentioned that to me.” A flush of anger washed over him as all the puzzle pieces started to fall into place though maybe that was more due to knowing that Charlie was telling every Tom, Dick, and Harry that Dean wanted to be dominated.

Cas flinched slightly but stood up straight. "Yes, because we agreed not to.”

Agreed? Did Cas just say 'agreed'? Agreed like he was some sort of bride in an arranged marriage and they’d just been ironing out the details of his dowry or some shit?

Okay Dean was starting to get a story here and he did _not_ like it.

His stomach started to burn with anger now and his fist clutched at his sides. Maybe if this had happened any day but this one, just maybe Dean would have been able to act like a rational human being. Maybe he would have been able to take a deep breath and discuss the situation with Cas like an adult.

But today had been an absolute fucking shit show and apparently the universe wasn’t through with him yet.

Between the goddamned hellhole he’d been working at this morning and the utter fucking mess Alder had put at his doorstep mere hours before, finding out that his best friend and his supposedly trustworthy boyfriend were “agreeing” to keep secrets from him that they damn well knew pertained to his own interests (that had also been spilled like so many beans) was the last fucking straw on Dean Winchester’s back.

“You know what, I need to leave,” Dean said, the last vestiges of sanity stopping him from running his mouth and saying something he’d regret.

He turned abruptly and stalked out of the room, not bothering to give Cas any other explanation than that. Dean couldn’t because if he started to talk, all the toxic sludge thoughts in his head were going to escape and deep deep down that small voice of sanity was screaming at him that he was overreacting; yes, he was allowed to be mad but what was going on didn’t merit this level of rage. 

Luckily for the little voice, Cas didn’t try to stop him; in fact he didn’t say a word. He just followed behind Dean, shoulders slumped and his face resigned. Cas only watched as Dean unceremoniously shoved his feet into his dress shoes and grabbed his things. The silence in the apartment was deafening and the air sparked with tension.

“Please be careful going home.”

This soft plea almost had Dean pausing at the doorway but the anger flared up again and he nodded tightly before shutting the door firmly behind him.

The elevator ride down to the lobby of Cas’ building and the walk to his car didn’t do anything to calm the fire in his mind but it did help Dean come to a conclusion. He wasn’t going to go home just yet. There was someone he needed to see.

Right now.

 

“Wow, Dean did you have an extra dose of ‘drama queen’ Wheaties today?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at him as he stood in front of the register at the shop, having just burst through the door and stomped down the aisle. Normally her amused reaction would have had him calming down but no, not this time.

“Did you know,” he asked. The hot sticky anger that had been ignited at Cas’ place was still burning hot in his stomach but he’d calmed down a teeny bit on the drive over which kept him from shouting.

“Did I know what,” Charlie asked, looking genuinely surprised. A bit of concern was starting to creep into her eyes. She set down the catalogue she’d been flipping through and stood up to lean across the counter. “Dean, are you okay?”

“No, I’m really not, Charlie,” he said tersely, his temper flaring slightly. “I just found out that my boyfriend, my supposedly average joe vanilla boyfriend, is a fucking Dom.” Charlie’s eyes widened and she paled ever so slightly; so she did know. “Though I guess that’s not news to you, is it?”

He couldn’t fucking believe this. 

“Was it fun? Was it supposed be some sort of cool reveal,” Dean exclaimed as every shitty thing that had happened to him today just fell on him in one crushing pile. “‘Oh! Hey, Dean. You know how you’ve been worrying about telling Cas your deep dark BDSM secret? No worries, he already fucking knows because he’s a goddamn Dom friend of mine and we’ve been chatting about you!’”

Charlie opened her mouth, probably to say she was sorry judging by the sad puppy look on her face, but Dean cut her off. He was just so angry. Between the absolute shit show that had been his work day and finding out that not only was his boyfriend keeping things from him but that his best friend had been airing his private matters to said boyfriend before they’d even been dating, he was done.

So fucking done.

“For two people who are always going on about how trust is so freaking important, you and Cas seem pretty damn happy to forget about it,” he continued. His frustration levels only getting higher as he realized yelling wasn't making things better like it should. “Or am I not allowed to have trust since I’m not in your secret Dom club?”

He’d been about to really get into chewing her out since Charlie couldn’t get a word in edgewise, not with his ranting, when Gilda appeared in the doorway that lead to the stockroom.

“Charlie, what is with the yelling,” she asked, walking out cautiously, a clipboard in her hand. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of Dean, who probably looked like a freaking lunatic, and a shamefaced looking Charlie. “What is going on?”

Before Dean could regain the steam on his ranting, Charlie managed to speak up. “He found out about Cas.”

Pursing her lips, Gilda sighed and set her clipboard down. “I told you two your little plan would backfire majorly,” she said tiredly, shaking her head as she walked over to him. A spike of anger flared up as Dean realized Gilda had been in on the deception too and he opened his mouth to yell at her as well but she stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Dean, I know you’re upset and you have every single right to be but please, do me an extremely big favor and just hear Charlie out? I can’t promise you won’t be angry afterward but maybe you’ll understand where she is coming from.”

Dean’s arm tensed against her grip and his mind debated furiously as to whether it would be worth it to let his rage stew for a bit or not. He had started to calm down a bit, the prickly heat that had taken over him when he’d seen Cas’ secret kinky cabinet and found out the great plan was starting to lessen, a state of affairs helped by Gilda’s thumb rubbing soothingly on his arm. Huffing out a frustrated breath, he nodded.

“Fine, I’ll listen,” he said before walking stiffly towards his usual seat and sitting down. Dean crossed his arms and glared. “Well, go on. Enlighten me.”

Charlie sat down in her own chair gingerly while Gilda pulled up a chair in the the no man’s land between them. She seemed to take a fortifying breath before looking at him and Dean felt a twinge of guilt at how upset she looked.

“I didn’t want to lie to you, Dean,” she began, toying with the pages of the abandoned catalogue in front of her. “It’s just---it’s just that, I was worried about you. You were so gung ho about going to find a Dom, I was afraid you’d run headlong into something dangerous. I wasn’t kidding about how a lot of Doms out there are really assholes so I sort of asked around myself to see who was looking for a new sub. Cas has been one of my friends in the scene for a long time and so, when he said he was currently unattached, I thought why not?”

“And you didn’t just tell me you’d found me a trustworthy Dom, because,” Dean asked, trailing off sarcastically. His temper was back down to acceptable levels now and he was genuinely curious as to why they’d even gone through with the whole secret thing.

Grimacing at his bluntness, Charlie sighed. “I didn’t tell you because I think you need more than a Dom in your life, Dean. You need someone who’s going to take care of you in more than just a kinky sex sense and I think Cas is that guy,” she said, her voice getting more and more confident as she spoke. Dean could see this wasn’t an excuse, Charlie really stood by what she was saying. “I mean, seriously, are you going to sit there and tell me that you haven’t been over the moon for Cas this entire time?”

He rolled his eyes. Of course he’d been crazy about Cas since day one, this wasn’t news to either of them. That didn’t explain why they weren’t up front about the fact Cas was a Dom.

“So why the secrecy,” he asked, keeping his voice calm and level. “Why not just tell me after the first date went alright or something?”

“Honestly,” Charlie said, looking at him with a small smile, “I didn’t say anything because I thought it might be better for you discover Cas’ kinky side on your own.” Her eyes widened and she waved her arms in the air frantically once she realized what she’d said. “Not like this! I didn’t mean like this,” she reassured him hastily. “I’d actually hoped you two would date for a while and then you’d take my advice about suggesting trying kink to him which he’d obviously agree to. You’d get a great Dom as a boyfriend along with a nice stable relationship. I didn’t think of it as lying to you but kinda like setting you up for success.”

As much as Dean was loathed to admit it, Charlie’s explanation made a lot of sense. 

It had felt really good to think that he’d found a great guy who he thought might be interested in taking a walk on the kinky side with him. He also had to agree, if he’d gone the route of finding a Dom first, he probably would have settled for a less than stellar specimen just to have it. Cas was the best of both worlds but having had the boyfriend experience, Dean could say that he was glad he’d gotten to see that side of Cas first because now he really felt comfortable with him. 

He wasn’t admitting that he felt bad about freaking out on Cas and Charlie but he was at least able to see a way to forgiving them.

“I’m not going to say I’m not still mad at you,” Dean started speaking slowly, making Charlie perk up, “but I guess I can see where you were coming from. It is possible I would have done something crazy and I guess I’m lucky to have you watching my back.”

A large amount of tension seeped out of Charlie’s shoulders and she smiled. “And I am totally ready to continue grovelling until I earn back your trust,” she replied, sounding beyond relief at his acceptance of her explanation. “Lying to you wasn’t one of my finer moments and in retrospect, I probably could have handled it better.”

“Most definitely,” Dean agreed, smiling for the first time since all this had started. His mind flashed back to the look on Cas’ face when he stormed out of his apartment and he sighed. “I guess I better talk to Cas.”

Charlie reached out and patted him on the arm. “Yeah, you two have quite a bit to talk about.”

Nodding, Dean pulled out his phone and typed out a text.

_To Cas: Meet me at the cafe tomorrow at 10? We need to talk_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now hopefully you guys aren't mad at me for throwing some angst in here because I swear this is a bad as this is going to get and we'll be back to our regularly scheduled fluffy-ness next chapter (after a bit of talking of course because communication is key)
> 
> And I was looking at my outline after I finished this chapter and it looks like we've hit the unofficial halfway point for this fic!


	13. Which Lead To A Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!  
> I finally finished my DCJ Big Bang this week and my muse has decided to bless me with the words to finish this chapter today and begin the next :)

A sleepless night and a worry filled morning left Dean feeling more than a bit frazzled but, as he sat down at the small outdoor table in front of the cafe, it was obvious that he wasn’t the only one.

Cas looked absolutely miserable.

The combination of dark shadows under his eyes, the ruffled hair that had blatantly been tugged at roughly, and the utter misery on Cas’ face was a true testament to how he felt. Dean felt his heart twinge slightly at the sight. He wasn’t a vindictive person, seeing Cas look so awful didn’t make him feel better. Dean settled into his seat and eyed the cup that was already in front of him.

“I ordered your drink,” Cas said hesitantly before grimacing slightly. He looked up sheepishly. “Though now I realize that was presumptuous of me and I should have let you choose your own drink.” His shoulders managed to slump even more than they had already. “I’m sorry.”

The unspoken “for everything” hovered in the air, an unpleasant reminder of what had led them here.

Dean sighed and reached for the cup; he could tell from the smell that it was indeed his usual order. “I’m not mad that you ordered my coffee for me, Cas,” he said after taking sip. “The fact that I enjoy a black vanilla coffee is common knowledge. I’m not upset that you used information you learned from me.”

Cas flinched at this small jab. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

Frowning, Dean sipped at his coffee and observed. Cas was sitting curled in on himself, staring down at his mug of tea. Green tea with just a hint of honey Dean knew. It didn’t look like it had been touched. 

He was surprised to find that he didn’t like the look of contrite Cas. It was hard to have a conversation as equals when one of the party was acting like a dog that might get kicked. Dean sighed and set his cup down firmly. Cas actually flinched at the sound.

“Okay, this moping thing isn’t going to work,” he said, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward. Dean fixed Cas with a look that he hoped was firm without being harsh. Wide blue eyes looked up at him in surprise and Dean realized what sort of interpretation his words could have had. “I’m not saying that you’re trying to trick me into forgiving you,” he clarified quickly, seeing Cas face settle back from fear to mere apprehension. “What I meant was that if we’re going to work through this and continue seeing each other, you can’t be walking on eggshells.”

“You’re not breaking up with me?” Cas blurted out, his eyes looking the most alive Dean had seen since he’d sat down. The hope in his eyes helped to erase some of the ragged lines from his face only to them return as Cas hesitated. “But--your text---I thought, well…”

“I meant what I said,” Dean said not ungently. “We need to talk, to work this shit out so we can move on. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad but I think what we have is bigger than one fight.”

It was like Dean had flipped a switch. The tight tension in Cas’ shoulders loosened and he visibly relaxed back against his chair. Hell, it looked almost as if Cas was tearing up just a bit. 

“Oh thank god,” Cas sighed, a small shaky smile tugging at his lips. “I thought that you invited me here to end our relationship.” He frowned, his eyes downcast. “Not that I would have deserved the courtesy of being let down face to face, what I did was inexcusable.”

“Damn right,” Dean said, nodding in agreement, “but it’s also something that I can move past.”

Cas moved his cup to the side and leaned forward. “Dean, I made grand proclamations about how much I value trust only to turn right around and violate yours,” he said, sounding skeptical. He waved his hand aimlessly in the air. “I don’t see how you’re okay with that.”

Sighing and leaning back in his seat, Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. This was the part of the conversation he’d gotten stuck on during his numerous preparatory walk throughs of his and Cas’ talk. He’d gotten so frustrated due to the fact he couldn’t put his thoughts into words that would make sense to an actual human being that he’d decided to screw it and go without a plan.

As he stared at Cas’ waiting face without a single thought, Dean remembered why it was always crucial to have a plan.

“I’m not okay with it,” he finally admitted, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his hair. “But one thing you need to know about me is while I will blow up when I’m pissed, once I get through that initial eruption, it’s over. Unless it’s something completely and utterly unforgivable, I’m able to move on once I’ve had my chance to be angry. I’ve already blown up at you, now it’s time for us to talk it out.”

Cas narrowed his eyes; it was obvious he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “And that’s it? We just...move on?” Dean nodded and reached for his coffee. Cas gave him a tentative smile. “I would be a fool to argue with you if this means that you’re still willing to see me after my abysmal behavior.”

Dean, still sipping his coffee, wagged a finger at him before swallowing. “See that right there,” he said, waving a his finger in Cas’ general direction. “That needs to stop, if we’re going to work this out. I want you to act like yourself so I can act like myself. Angry Dean and Sad Cas aren’t going to be able get anything done.” He paused and took another sip of coffee before adding, “I will gladly accept a small amount of grovelling later though, capisce?”

The remaining tension that had been lurking between them quickly dissipated as Cas looked down at his hands before looking up at him. He hadn’t realized how good it would feel to see amusement in those blue eyes again.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Cas’ mouth. “I capisce, Dean.”

Dean smiled back, wanting to sigh in relief as he felt the horrible weight lift from his stomach and chest. They were going to be okay. It wasn’t until that moment Dean became aware of how unconsciously worried he’d been that something would inevitably go wrong and he’d be forced to break up with Cas. All the post yoga zen vibes in the world couldn’t feel better than this.

“Good, now...since my big secret is already out of the bag,” Dean said in a moment of inspiration, leaning forward onto his elbows as his soft smile changed to a playful smirk. “We’re going to play a game.”

Cas looked intrigued and a teeny bit confused, probably at Dean’s sudden teasing edge. “What sort of game?” he asked hesitantly. Dean wanted to laugh at how wary yet hopeful he looked.

“A game that’s called ‘Dean found a completely natural way to work up the courage to tell his completely uninformed boyfriend about his interests in kink, completely on his own, and now he and Cas are going to talk about it’,” Dean explained. He raised a pointed brow at Cas in an attempt to further get his point across.

The deep chuckle this pulled out of Cas lit up his face so that he looked much more like the sunny yoga instructor Dean had fallen for. Dean beamed, feeling the lightest he had all morning. 

Things were going to be alright.

 

They ultimately decided to take what remained of their drinks and walk while they talked, opting for the relative privacy that movement provided that the crowded cafe did not. Dean really didn’t feel like informing all the early morning coffee addicts and brunch goers that he kinda sorta wanted to be tied up.

Just a little. 

“So you have no experience as a sub at all?” Cas asked as they wandered into the city park. He was using his gentle yoga instructor voice. Dean found he didn’t really mind; it was actually kind of helpful. That voice was so damn soothing and he had a feeling that could only be a benefit.

It didn’t quite stop him from feeling embarrassed though when a group of little old ladies power walked by them close enough that Dean was sure they could have heard Cas’ question.

Dean felt his cheeks flush a bit and told himself it was the heat from his coffee, not the focus on his kinky inexperience. “Right, but Charlie gave me a lot of books and a list of informative blogs to read up on,” he said, talking a bit softer than he probably needed since they really were alone on the path now. “I think I understand the basics but I know that basically everyone is different.”

Cas hummed in agreement. “That’s very true,” he said, glancing over at Dean before continuing. “Some people will try to tell you there is a “right” way to do things but quite frankly I believe that the only “right” way is anyway that all parties involved agree on and that is safe for all parties involved.”

The use of air quotes, a habit that Dean already knew Cas indulged in, made him roll his eyes at what a dork his boyfriend was. “That’s kinda what I’ve figured out, I think,” Dean replied. “The conclusion I came to after putting all the stuff I’d read together was that the only wrong way is doing stupid shit that will get someone really hurt.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “Well, hurt in a way that someone doesn’t actually want.”

“Very true and speaking of what people prefer,” Cas said after taking a sip of his tea. He turned his head towards Dean and fixed him with a thoughtful gaze. “Since you haven’t actually tried anything yet, do you have anything specific in mind?”

Ah, this is the part Dean had been half dreading.

Part of him thought it would be better if he wanted some of what he privately thought of as the “normal” BDSM kinks. If all he wanted more than anything was to be tied up with handcuffs or blindfolded or spanked, Dean figured he wouldn’t have such a hard time. Those things were simple and classic in a way; not to mention they were easier to explain. 

“Well,” Dean began awkwardly after briefly wetting his lips. He was grateful that they’d decided to walk in the park since it meant that Cas was walking next to him instead of sitting across a table. “I sort of do but---it’s kinda weird…”

Cas startled him a bit by reaching out to grab him by the arm, pulling him to a halt and making Dean face him. His eyes were filled with an earnest sincerity. “Dean, you should never be afraid to tell me there’s something you want. Communication is very important. As a Dom, I can’t do what I need to do if you’re afraid to speak your mind.”

Dean leaned into the comforting pressure of Cas’ hand on his arm. The sudden wish that they were talking about this in one of their apartments while sitting on the couch crossed his mind; having this conversation wrapped in Cas’ arms suddenly seemed like such a good idea but unfortunately that wasn’t the current situation. 

“It’s not that I’m really afraid,” he explained haltingly, trying to order all his random thoughts into something remotely coherent. “It’s just, I’m not sure how to go about asking...it’s hard to get the words out and hard to explain what I want...”

Humming thoughtfully, Cas started walking again; Dean followed gratefully, happy to have the movement as a distraction.“That’s fair enough I suppose,” Cas said before pausing. He hummed thoughtfully and tapped a finger against his tea mug. “Would it help if you wrote it down? Or since we don’t have any paper, what if you texted it to me?”

A small laugh bubbled out of Dean at this surprisingly simple solution. All this time Dean had been worried about having to get the words out while there was a perfect solution sitting in his pants pocket. Coming right out and admitting his kinks didn’t seem so bad if he was able to write it instead of saying it.

“Yeah, I think that could work,” Dean answered, feeling the tension he hadn’t even realized he was carrying fade away.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Cas gestured silently for his cup and held Dean’s rapidly cooling coffee while Dean opened a new text. Dean was very much aware of the fact that Cas was still standing close enough for him to peek at anything he wrote but Cas pointedly looked away, observing the random goings on of the few souls who bothered to venture out into the park this early on a weekend.

After a few moments, and quite a few deletions, Dean reread his text.

_To Cas: I want to not think, I want to be a pet who doesn’t have to worry about things but without the gear. Not a dog or a cat...just a pet if that makes sense.._

It took a few deep breaths that Dean half suspected Cas of, either consciously or unconsciously, leading him through with his own calm audible breaths but eventually Dean managed to hit the send button. His stomach swirled with unpleasant butterflies as he waiting for the ensuing ‘ping’ to issue from Cas’ pocket. Dean took his turn at holding their drinks while Cas grabbed his own phone.

The sticky vines of nerves in his stomach unlatched their grip slightly when a smile graced Cas’ lips as he read Dean’s text. 

“This is definitely something we can try, Dean. I actually have a bit of experience with this sort of thing so I can definitely work with this,” Cas said as he put his phone back in his pocket and took his drink back. He took a quick sip before continuing, “But before we actually begin a scene, I would like to earn your trust back first.”

“I’ve already forgiven you---” Dean began to protest. He was actually starting to get a little angry. It was like Cas was ignoring everything he’d said at the cafe.

“Dean, please, I need this. I need to show you that I’m worthy of being your Dom, that I’m worthy of your trust, Cas said, fixing Dean with a determined yet earnest look. It was a look that told Dean that this request was non-negotiable in Cas’ eyes.

Sighing, Dean nodded. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt anything to let Cas redeem himself, even if he was the only who thought he still needed redeemed. In fact, it was probably smarter to let Cas have this one thing. It would help get Cas passed his guilt. “How do you want to do that?” he asked.

“I’d like for us to focus on going back to normal for a while,” Cas explained as they drew closer to the entrance of the park again. “We won’t actually scene for a bit. I’d like to really discuss what you want out of a Dom/sub relationship with me first and I’d like to explore what we both enjoy.”

Dean nodded; that seemed fair enough. True, he was slightly disappointed they wouldn’t be getting started right away but he supposed talking about what they were going to do was something. “So we’d be working on a contract,” he asked, his brow crinkling in thought as he realized what Cas was proposing. “I thought those weren’t something people really did.”

Cas chuckled and sipped his tea. “You’re right. Not many people, at least no one I know in any case, really wastes their time writing up a huge document,” he explained, hand gesturing gracefully through the air. “I was actually thinking more that we make a list of what we like and want to try and we compare them and maybe make a list of our no-go areas.”

They walked in silence for a minute; each of them collecting their thoughts and digesting what they’d talked about. Despite all his earlier worries, Dean felt as if things had gone extremely well. He and Cas were on the same page, Cas understood why Dean had been mad and they’d been able to work through it, and now they were going to actually take the first few steps towards bringing a D/s element into their relationship. Dean felt so light and excited. 

In fact, Dean felt so good, he ignored the small voice in his head that lectured him about taking things slowly and reached a hand out to lace his fingers with Cas’. He snorted lightly with amusement when Cas jolted at the feel of Dean’s hand in his but smiled when he felt Cas’ grip tighten snugly around his fingers. They strolled down the street towards the cafe.

“That sounds like a good plan to me,” Dean agreed.

Cas brushed his thumb over the skin of Dean’s hand. “But like I said,” Cas continued, sounding reluctant to bring it up but as if he knew he needed to. “I need to show you that you can trust me.” Dean opened his mouth to argue, slightly annoyed that Cas already seemed to be having trouble with this whole listening/talking thing, but Cas distracted him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “Think of this as part of my grovelling if that helps.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little. He had said that Cas could grovel a bit. He sighed overdramatically. “I guess I can handle that,” Dean said before turning to him and leveling Cas with an interested gaze. “So what kind of grovelling did you have in mind anyway?”

 

It turned out Cas’ “small amount” of allowed grovelling turned into two months of Dean having the most amazing boyfriend ever.

Dean found himself awash in dinner dates at his place. They spent as much time together as possible even if it meant Dean answered a few emails at the dinner table and did a little less work at home. Honestly it was for the best, working on his and Cas’ relationship far outstripped his tenuous interest in work so he managed work like a normal person. 

Dinners were strictly light affairs where they only discussed or Cas’ classes or the nicer aspects of Dean’s workday, trying not to get too deep into Dean’s day since work was, as usual, a shit show. Talking about Dean’s work issues wouldn’t have made for a relaxing time anyway. Talking yoga classes was a lot more pleasant.

In addition to having a good home cooked meal and someone to talk to after a long day’s work, something that Dean never knew could feel so comforting, they began having a weekly movie night on Saturdays. Out of all the things Cas suggest to help rebuild their relationship, this was Dean’s favorite activity. Though honestly, how could it not be? Being wrapped up in blankets with Cas on the couch for hours on end was hardly a hardship and Dean enjoyed the pure intimacy of it, of just being in each other’s space for a while. 

They also started having small discussions about their kinks. Coming up with their lists of things they wouldn’t be doing was fairly simple. Cas already had one established, he just needed to write it down. Dean’s took a bit more time but not too much more since the things that he vetoed right away matched up with Cas’ for the most part. There were a few activities Dean (very tentatively) added to the “maybe we’ll try” column. Cas said they could leave that list alone for a while, until they got their feet underneath them.

Then of course, there was the list of things they _wanted_ to do.

Dean had been very relieved that Cas offered to print off a checklist for this particular exercise though he wasn’t exactly please that Cas wouldn’t let him look at his list before completing his own.

_“The point of this is to find out what_ you _want to do. Not what you think_ I _want to do, Dean.”_

So Dean set out on the arduous journey of choosing which kinks he wanted to try and quickly found it was both easier and harder than he’d thought it would be. It was easy in the respect that each time Dean’s eyes settled on something deep down he knew he wanted, he knew wholeheartedly that he wanted to check the box next to it.

Unfortunately, actually checking the box was the hard part.

His own brain was constantly trying to sabotage him, telling him that there was no way Cas wasn’t going to think he was a freak for wanting to try whatever kink had caught his eye. Of course, logic did try to argue that he already knew the things that Cas absolutely did not want to partake in but that didn’t stop that slimy voice from trying to convince him that Cas would judge him anyway. 

All in all it took Dean the good part of a week to work up the nerve to complete his list. He kept expecting Cas to ask about it over dinner or to text him but that never happened. Cas hadn’t said a word about Dean’s list and only talked about BDSM once or twice that week and only for a few minutes. By the time Dean presented his list to Cas, he was a nervous wreck but he knew he needed to get on with it. 

He just hoped everything didn’t blow up in his face.

 

Dean chewed lightly on his fingernails and tried to act like he wasn’t creeping on Cas as he looked over their lists. Cas’ eyes were still moving back and forth and his lack of reaction was absolutely killing Dean; he needed to know what was going on under that mess of hair.

In an attempt to distract himself, Dean pulled out his phone. There were about twenty work emails on it and, after a small internal battle, Dean managed to swipe them away. It was well after work hours, he was not obligated to look at them; at least that’s what he’d been trying to teach himself. Cas had been helping him ditch his bad habits when it came to work but some days it was still hard.

Adler had been a supreme dick as of late, partly because the department was under pressure to deliver but Dean suspected that he was pissed that Dean wasn’t working like robot anymore. It wasn’t as if he could demand that Dean go back to working ten hour days and on weekends, not when Dean was getting the bulk of his work done, so Adler took out his frustrations by nitpicking the hell out of Dean’s work.

At first Dean had been a bit crushed. He wouldn’t say he needed praise but getting a constant stream of criticism wasn’t exactly helping him. It had been extremely tempting to fall back into his old ways in order to fix all the issues Adler had found in his work and he probably would have done it if it hadn’t been for Cas.

_“Dean, not to sound insensitive to your plight but, how important is it to fix these errors,” Cas had asked as he’d massaged Dean’s hands on night. “Because it seems to me that these ‘errors’ that your boss is pointing out are a matter of personal preference. They are extra things he wants, not things required for your work.”_

_“Hmm…” Dean had hummed, loose and relaxed from Cas’ massage. Everything seemed to make more sense when it was Cas saying it instead of that small logical voice in his mind. “Maybe you’re right. I mean some of the shit he bitched about today was purely aesthetic, if he wants a difference color scheme, he can fix it himself.”_

They’d spent the rest of the night curled up on Dean’s couch and, still riding on the good vibes of being with Cas, Dean had gone into work the next morning and submitted his work without making the changes Adler had pointed out. Adler certainly hadn’t been happy about it when he’d come back from the meeting but he did grudgingly admit that the clients hadn’t cared. From that point on, Dean had begun to loosen the stranglehold that work had on his life and so far he had to admit, it was awesome.

Less time dealing with work meant more time for Cas and that was definitely a plus in Dean’s book.

A pair of arms wrapping around his waist spooked him and Dean realized he’s spaced out while staring at his phone.

“Jeeze, warn a guy,” Dean grumbled, annoyed at being snuck up on. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned back into the sturdy presence of Cas.

A low rumble vibrated at his back as Cas chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I said your name a few times but you were absorbed with your phone,” he said. He turned Dean around so they were face to face, sliding his hands down to rest on Dean’s hips. “Is it work?”

Dean noticed the carefully neutral expression on Cas’ face. He didn’t blame Cas for it; he knew that Cas was cautiously optimistic about Dean’s new work leaf with good reason. Kicking his workaholic habit was difficult and he had had some slip ups here and there. Nothing too big but just enough for Cas (and Dean too if he were going to be honest) to wonder if it was going to stick in the long run.

“Nope, just cleaning out my notifications,” Dean replied. He nodded at the papers sitting on the counter. “Are you done looking at our sex list?”

Cas rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yes, I’m done looking at the ‘sex list’,” Cas said, removing his hands from Dean’s hips to make dorky air quotes before rubbing his hands lightly up Dean’s sides. “It looks like we match up very well and we definitely have a lot of room to work with.” 

Cautious excitement began to stir in Dean.

He swallowed and licked his lips. “So, does that mean we’ll get to...you know, soon?” Cas gave him a pointed look, one eyebrow arched expectantly until Dean rolled his eyes and continued. “Yeah, yeah. ‘If you can’t say it...’. So does this mean we’re going to do a scene soon?”

There was a beat of silence. Dean waited with baited breath as Cas chewed at his lip, his expression thoughtful. 

Dean thought he was going to burst from excitement when Cas nodded, smiling.

“Yes, I think we’re ready to move on to doing a scene,” Cas said. Dean whooped happily and kissed him, a kiss which Cas returned before pulling back and speaking again. “But it’s going to be a small, light scene, okay? We’re still taking things slow.” He paused, face growing more serious as he brushed a thumb over Dean’s cheekbone. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

Dean smiled softly before leaning forward to kiss him gently. “You’re not going to ruin anything, Cas,” he replied. He patted Cas on the cheek and smirked. “Now let’s get down to business….what’s our first scene going to be?”

The tentatively excited smile on Cas face was the highlight of Dean’s night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I wanted to thank those of you who have stuck around. I know I'm slow to update and you guys are so nice about waiting for updates. You truly are the best readers ever :)


	14. Then There Was a Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, the moment you've all been waiting for....

Unfortunately for Dean’s excitement concerning his and Cas’ first scene, they had to wait a whole three days for the weekend to arrive. Dean actually considered taking off work in order to move the big day up a bit to Friday but Cas, being the responsible stick in the mud that he was sometimes, said he couldn’t skip out on his yoga classes or his massage clients.

So Dean was forced to wait.

The rest of Dean’s week dragged by slowly. Though, he had to admit, Alder’s bullshit was a lot easier to deal with considering he had something to look forward to. It still wasn’t pleasant but it was better than usual. Dean managed to keep his mind mildly occupied by his work and he actually got quite a bit of work done. Alder was of course not happy with the results, claiming the formatting of his reports wasn’t of good quality. Dean was able to ignore him with the help of the little voice in his head that Dean had come to associate with Cas, though in reality, it was probably just common sense.

Dean’s Friday was filled to the brim with meetings but, thanks to Sarah’s magical scheduling skills, he was still out of the office at five. He made sure to scribble a note to himself to pick up something delicious at the cafe for her to say ‘thank you’ though at this point Dean knew he owed Sarah more than coffee and pastries. 

Especially since he was pretty sure he overheard Sarah lying her ass off, telling Adler that Dean had mentioned going out of town for the weekend so there wasn’t any way he could pop in for a conference call on Saturday. He definitely owed his assistant big time. Maybe Cas would have an idea of what to get her.

And speaking of Cas…

Dean was currently pacing the length of his living room while he waited for him. Cas had texted saying he was on his way over but it felt like that had been at least two hours ago. Dean had managed to tidy the already clean living room about ten times since Cas had texted and his fingers itched to do it again.

 _Relax, Dean,_ a calm and familiar voice said in his head. _Cas will be here soon and then we’ll start and everything will be awesome…_

A loud (though probably not really loud) knock made Dean jump before he bolted for the door.

His hands felt sweaty and tingled a little bit as he gripped the knob and turned it; Dean was pretty sure his heart was going a mile a minute right up until the moment he saw Cas standing on the other side of the door. Something about the relaxed way Cas stood there, a small smile on his lips, made Dean’s heartbeat stutter for a second before starting to calm. The soothing scent of Cas’ earthy cologne was a help too.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said gently. He leaned in and kissed Dean softly before standing back and looking pointedly at the door. “May I come in?”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah,” Dean stuttered, jumping back and to the side so he could swing the door open. He rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, a heated flush taking over his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to block traffic.”

Cas stepped into the apartment and shut the door. “It’s fine, Dean. I know that you’re nervous,” he said while he stripped off his coat. “I’m a bit nervous too. It’s natural to feel this way before a first scene.” He paused for a second as if an idea occurred to him. “Or any scene I suppose.”

The knot in Dean’s stomach started slowly to untangle itself now that Cas was actually in his apartment. Once he felt like he wasn’t about to pass out in a hyperventilating heap, he noticed Cas was wearing a t-shirt and jeans which gave Dean pause. He’d been expecting a suit or something like in his fantasies but then, Cas did like to do things his own way. And of course it did help Dean feel like this was closer to a normal date which was probably Cas’ intention the whole time.

“I know,” Dean said now that his voice was working properly. He followed Cas over to the couch and sat down, rubbing his face. “I just keep thinking about it. I mean, what if I do something wrong? Or what if I don’t like it or I drop? All this stuff is just in my head and I can’t get it out.”

Strong hands wrapped around his biceps and pulled him so he was tucked up against Cas, his head resting on Cas’ shoulder. “Well, let’s look at these worries one at a time shall we,” Cas suggested. He ran a hand up and down Dean’s arm and it went a long way to easing the tension Dean had been holding. “There’s no way for you to do anything wrong. This isn’t about you being perfect, you have enough of that to deal with and it has no place in what we’re about to do. This is about finding what you enjoy and that means there’s no right and wrong.”

Dean wanted to act indifferent, to roll his eyes at how cheesy Cas’ words sounded but found he couldn’t. This was mainly due to the fact that this explanation was soothing his nerves and calming the twisting snakes in his stomach so instead he let Cas continue.

“Next, if you don’t like something, we’ll stop immediately,” Cas said. He hooked a finger under Dean’s chin and pushed up gently so they were eye to eye and his tone got slightly more serious. “And I mean that, Dean. If at any point you decide whatever we’re doing isn’t for you, I want to you to tell me. Not wait until we’re done to tell me or don’t tell me and put up with it because you think that’s what I want to do. I never want you to be uncomfortable, do you understand?”

Even though they were in the middle of a very weighty conversation, Dean shivered at the steel in Cas’ voice. This was just a hint of the full on dominant side he’d been dying to see from Cas and he knew right then and there that once they actually did get down to business, he was not going to be disappointed in the slightest. Swallowing hard, he nodded; Cas looked at him pointedly and, interpreting the look, Dean wet his lips. “I understand, Cas.”

This response seemed to be what Cas was looking for and he continued, his fingers moving from Dean’s chin so he could rub a thumb gently over Dean’s cheek. His eyes softened and that too made Dean shiver but for a different reason. 

“Finally, I can’t guarantee that you won’t drop,” Cas admitted though Dean could tell that he wasn’t particularly happy about it. Dean wasn’t particularly happy about it either considering that, from everything he’d read, dropping sounded completely awful. “But I can tell you that I will do my best to prevent that and if it does happen, I will be there to help you through it.”

And Dean believed him. 

 

Cas insisted on talking for a bit longer but eventually, Dean’s eagerness finally wore him down and he agreed that they should start. The room was crackling with energy as Dean stood in front of Cas, waiting for his first orders.

Just the thought of Cas telling him what to do, even if he already knew roundabouts what the orders would be, made his toes curl in anticipation.

He could feel his breathing start to pick up but a look from Cas had him tapping into his breath (a totally Cas phrase if ever there was one) and after a few steady breaths, Cas smiled.

“Good boy.”

Oh sweet mother of god...Dean was a goner.

“Now that you’ve calmed down, let’s begin,” Cas said as he stood up. “I want you to go back to your room and strip down as much as you are comfortable, fold the clothing you take off neatly, and then come back to the living room. I’ll give your further instructions then.” Dean’s feet twitched to move when Cas’ voice stopped him. “But first, would you like to use a safeword or colors? And you must pick one.”

Dean paused, thinking. Honestly, he didn’t think they really needed safewords or colors. If he told Cas “stop”, Cas would stop without question; he had no doubt about that whatsoever. But he also knew that Cas wouldn’t continue without having a way to check in with him. The idea of using his safeword (Sandover because nothing would make things grind to a halt faster than work) for the small scene they had planned made Dean feel a bit ridiculous so he supposed that left him with one option.

“Let’s use the colors,” Dean replied with a nod. “That way it’s not just stop and go.”

Cas smiled and nodded. “That works for me.” He tilted his head towards the hall. “Off you go then.”

Just about every inch of Dean’s skin buzzed as he walked down the hall, leaving Cas behind so he could complete his first ever orders from his Dom. The very idea that he had a Dom blew his mind and he begged the universe to please let this work out. He arrived at the doorway to his room, which seemed suddenly closer than usual, and stepped inside before closing the door behind him. Once the door was shut, Dean realized he had a decision to make. 

Did he want to get full on naked?

His first instinct as to strip down completely. He knew that the idea of him being utterly naked while Cas was still fully dressed was one of his fantasies but….he just wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet. A part of Dean still liked to pop up now and again and ridicule him for what he wanted and it seemed easier to ignore that voice if he wasn’t completely vulnerable. He knew Cas wouldn’t mind; in fact, Dean would be Cas would be proud if he picked the option that made him the most comfortable even if it wasn’t completely what Dean had pictured.

And Dean could already verify that making Cas proud was one of his favorite things to do.

Choice made, Dean started to strip off his clothes.

 

It wasn’t until several minutes (and some more calming breaths later) that Dean walked softly back down the hall in nothing but his red boxer briefs. He’d considered changing into a different, less vibrant pair, but had ultimately decided against it. Cas wasn't going to care what kind of underwear he was sporting.

Dean still needed a few seconds to steel himself for the final steps into the living room but he was proud to say he accomplished it. He strode into the room to find Cas standing up, his hands rearranging some blankets and pillows on the couch. Dean hadn’t realized how worried he’d been in the back of his mind that Cas would disappointed he’d decided to keep his underwear on until relief set in at Cas’ pleased smile. Cas nodded in approval and gestured for Dean to join him.

Once Dean was standing in front of him, Cas reached over to the coffee table and picked up a soft looking leather collar.

They’d decided to go with a collar, not because of the symbolism that typically went with collars when it came to BDSM, but because Dean felt he was going to need a way to tell his brain to switch off and back on. He hoped that once he had the collar on, he would be able to let himself slip away and that once the collar was taken off, he could get back into his normal headspace. Cas had supported this decision and offered to find a collar for them to use. 

“Are you ready, Dean?” Cas asked softly but firmly, the collar held between his hands. “Remember, you decide if this happens. I won’t be upset if you change your mind.”

Dean shook his head. “No, I’m ready,” he said before giving Cas a smile he hoped reassured him. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Cas smiled and chuckled. “Alright then, you know the scene we discussed. If you want to stop, just say “red” and if you want to take a breather, just say “yellow”.” 

The slithering nerves in Dean’s stomach tried to take over again but this time, they were squashed by the eager butterflies that fluttered around like crazy as he bared his neck. Goosebumps, the good kind, broke out on his arms and legs as Cas brought the collar around and secured it. 

There was no lightning bolt from the blue, no crackle of electricity, and none of the other fantastic poetic feelings that some people online had described when talking about their first scene. Dean just felt...grounded. The weight of the collar around his neck was a pleasant pressure that reassured him that this was real. It would be a lie to say that the moment Cas buckled the collar on Dean felt an immediate shift into a calm state, but its presence did give him something to focus on besides all the different thoughts fighting for control of his mind.

It wasn’t an instant fix...but Dean knew this was definitely the start of something fantastic.

He must have spaced out a bit during this revelation because a light touch against his shoulder accompanied by Cas’ voice started him. 

“Alright, Dean?” Cas asked. His voice was soft but firm, almost like his yoga voice. 

Dean nodded and, in a moment of boldness, stepped away from Cas to walk over to the couch. When he got there, he finally noticed the stack of thick blankets Cas had placed on the floor. He took a deep breath and smoothly bent his knees so he could kneel on the pile; the blankets cushioned his knees and Dean felt confident he could kneel there for quite some time. When he looked back up once he was settled, he saw that Cas was staring at him intently, probably to make sure Dean wasn’t freaking out on the inside.

Apparently Cas found what he was looking for because after a few seconds he walked over to the sofa and sat down. Dean shivered when his hypersensitive skin brushed against the body warmed denim of Cas’ jeans. His muscles still felt a bit stiff; even though he knew what they were going to be doing for this scene, it was as if he didn’t know what to actually do with his body.

“How about we watch some TV?” Cas asked though Dean knew he didn’t expect an answer. One of the parameters of the scene was Dean wasn’t expected to talk. He could if he needed to but Dean had requested that he didn’t have to which Cas agreed to. 

Cas did look down and smile before looking back at the TV. He idly clicked through the channels, pausing here and there to see what was on that particular channel before moving on. Dean was still sitting ramrod straight next to Cas’ legs. He wanted to keep up the perfect posture he’d seen on the d/S blogs online but before Cas had even settled on a channel, his back began to ache. Years of desk work wasn’t making things easy for him and soon he was forced to reposition so he was sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa.

There was no acknowledgement of his move. He wondered what Cas made of his inability to kneel like a proper sub. He tried to sit upright in a way that almost mimicked his meditation pose from yoga class but it didn’t last long. When Dean finally succumbed to his desire to touch Cas, he carefully leaned so he could rest his head on Cas’ thigh and was surprised when warm strong fingers carded through his hair gently.

“Good pet.”

Dean was sure there was nothing in this world that was better than the feeling he was currently feeling as Cas toyed lightly with his hair as he channel surfed.

 

Of course, Dean found out later that, while he stood by his assertion nothing had felt better than that first scratch of Cas’ fingers against his scalp, there were a bunch of other things that felt just as good.

Like Cas running his free hand in circles across his exposed stomach.

After an episode of How It’s Made (Cas’ choice of show for the afternoon), Dean had begun shifting as his hips and knees started to ache slightly. Yoga had definitely helped get him ready for sitting on the floor for a longer period of time but it seemed his body still had limits. He’d been determined to stick it out for a while longer, just so he could start to get used to the feeling in general, but Cas had immediately figured out what was going on.

_“Come on, pet,” Cas had said, patting the cushion next to him. “Come up here with me for a while.”_

Dean had slowly fumbled his way up onto the couch; his limbs a bit uncoordinated after being on the ground for so long in addition to a strange weighted feeling to his legs and arms that he suspected was caused by being so relaxed. Once he was on the couch, Cas had gently maneuvered him so he was on his back, his head in Cas’ lap, and his arms and legs supported by some pillows Cas tucked here and there. 

In all honesty, it made Dean think of when Cas would direct the class to set up themselves up for supported yoga postures. There was a---well, not quite a weightlessness---but a sense of ease to it that Dean knew he could absolutely get addicted to. 

They’d spent about half an episode on the couch with Dean not dozing but not focusing on the show either. His eyes had been on the TV screen but he wouldn’t have been able to say what the hell was on the screen. The light sound of Cas’ breathing had meshed with the narrator on the show and Dean found his mind turning delightfully thick and syrup-like.

And then the hand had started up.

At first the warm heat of Cas’ palm on his stomach startled him.

“Shhh...relax, pet,” Cas hummed when he twitched upon contact. “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

It took a second for Dean’s muscles to relax at the sudden change but after he did, he found that the feel of Cas’ fingers rubbing small circles on his stomach really did feel awesome. True, Dean was a little self-conscious at first; his stomach wasn’t exactly his best feature but the hypnotic motion of Cas’ hand quickly shut up that voice that liked to mention how he had a bit of pudge that really should be hidden. 

Dean wouldn’t have categorized it as a massage but, as someone who had experienced the magic of Cas’ fingers from time to time, he could say that it had just about the same effect. That last little bit of tightness around his eyes and in his jaw flowed away, leaving Dean feeling all squishy and formless.

 _Like pudding_ , Dean thought, the gears of his mind moving sluggishly. _A happy squishy pudding._

At one point Cas paused the movement of his hand and, with all higher level brain functions now running at molasses in an igloo speeds, Dean didn’t even feel embarrassed by the pathetic whine that eeked out of him. Hell, he even turned and rubbed his face against Cas’ side in an attempt to make him start again. Non-mushy brain Dean would have been horrified at this act of needy desperation but current Dean didn’t care. He wanted his belly rub back. 

Cas chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating through to Dean’s cheek. “Now, now, none of that,” he said, patting Dean on the belly softly. “I can feel your stomach rumbling so I think it’s time for a snack.”

Dean’s stomach rumbled. Well, now that Cas mentioned it, Dean could do with a snack. He hadn’t exactly eaten much during the day thanks to the nerves that had been plaguing him. Assuming that they were pausing the scene for a moment and realizing he’d have to get up, Dean grumbled and haltingly began to rise from the couch. He was pretty sure he had some leftovers they could heat up...

A hand to his chest stopped him.

“No need to get up. My pet looks so comfortable, I don’t want to disturb him,” Cas said, a smile touching his lips. He leaned down and kissed Dean lightly on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

The host in Dean, who still even after all this time saw Cas as a guest instead of his boyfriend, balked at being so lazy as to lay around while someone fed not only themselves but him as well. He very briefly contemplated getting up anyway but…

He was just too damn happy where he was.

Cas quickly returned. He placed two bottles of water and a small plate on the coffee table before sitting down. As soon as Cas was seated again, Dean wasted no time in curling up next to him so his head could rest on Cas’ thigh, making Cas chuckle.

“I see my pet missed me,” he said in a mirthful tone, reaching down to pet Dean’s hair. Dean sighed happily and shivered as those delightful buoyant sparks burst down his spine. Petting was most certainly one of his favorite things so far. Cas reached for the plate. “Alright, snack time. Open up, pet.”

Surprising himself, Dean opened his mouth without hesitation or embarrassment and was rewarded with a small piece of cheese stacked together with a small piece of bologna. It only took one or two bites for Dean to confirm that even something as simple as bologna and cheese tasted better when Cas was feeding it to him. Wanting Cas to know this but not wanting to speak, Dean elected for humming contentedly while he chewed and nuzzled Cas’ thigh.

At one point Cas prodded him into sitting up so he could give Dean some water but then he let Dean sprawl again while together they finished the plate of snacks. It was just enough that Dean no longer felt hungry but so much as to make him feel stuffed. 

As promised, Cas began gently rubbing Dean’s stomach again now that they had eaten and he began to flip mindlessly through the channels with his free hand. Dean was immediately sucked back down into that pleasantly not-quite-weightless state he had been before but this time, his head wasn’t quite as foggy. This tiny spark of consciousness was baffled and amazed at how he currently felt.

That annoying ache behind his eyes? Gone.

The tension in his shoulders? Oddly enough, that was fading with every circle of Cas’ hands on his skin.

Thoughts of work? Well, those were still there. After all, Dean wasn’t sure if there was anything that could make him completely forget that his job was an absolute cesspool of stress. But as he laid on his couch, playing the part of Cas’ affectionate pet, Dean felt like all his work worries had been boxed away, encased in a glass case far away in his brain. He could still see them, he knew they were there and they would have to be dealt with at some point, but for now he could ignore them.

And that realization made him feel like he wanted to cry with relief, or at the very least whoop for joy.

Cas laughing at something on the TV brought Dean back to surface of his thoughts and triggered a realization. He wanted to take the scene a bit further than planned.

Before any of the doubting voices in his head could speak up to stop him, Dean shimmied onto his side and slipped onto the floor. Cas stiffened and sat up, his face shifting into an expression of concern; he didn’t say anything yet but Dean could see he was watching intently. The intensity made Dean shiver in a not unpleasant way as he placed his hands on Cas’ knees and nudged them apart.

Shyness took over for a split second and Dean looked up at Cas demurely from beneath his eyelashes to see what Cas had made of his move. He was more than pleased to see Cas swallow hard before he began to speak.

“Yellow,” Cas said and for a brief moment, Dean’s heart leapt painfully in his chest. Had he overstepped that much? True, Cas had said that he’d like to stick to the plan they’d come up with but he was always saying that this was for Dean and if Dean really wanted this, would Cas really be that upset he’d initiated without asking? His thigh muscles tensed, ready to retreat in shame when a hand on his cheek stopped him.

“Shh, I just want to check in,” Cas said soothingly, his thumb caressing Dean’s cheek. He pressed so that Dean was meeting his gaze fully. “Is this something you really want, Dean? You’re under no obligation.” 

Dean nodded and smiled. For a moment there was quiet and Dean worried Cas was going to make him say what he wanted out loud. He could do that but somewhere inside, Dean worried that if he forced himself to speak, the bubble of happy weightlessness would be popped. But to his relief, Cas nodded and leaned back. There was a shift in his gaze that Dean could see meant that he’d shifted back into the scene.

“Does my pet want something?” Cas asked teasingly. 

The playful smirk on Cas’ lips made Dean blush but he was pleased to note he didn’t feel embarrassed, not really. Dean’s flush deepened as he nodded and reached a hand tentatively towards the zipper of Cas’ jeans. Cas shifted so he legs spread wider, allowing Dean more access, and he hummed in pleasure as Dean worked to open his pants. 

Cas was already halfway to hard by the time Dean had his jeans open and this pleased Dean very much. Normally Dean would feel a bit self conscious at having someone watching him so closely as he got ready to blow them but he was too eager to care.

He wanted desperately to make Cas feel as good as he felt right now. 

A shocked gasp burst out of Cas as Dean dove in, not bothering with a slow build up. Sex with Cas always made him feel extra rambunctious but some as of yet unidentified reason, Dean felt more impatient than usual. Maybe it was the fact this was their first scene, maybe it was the fact he was almost completely naked while Cas was fully clothed, but whatever it was, it had Dean pulling out all the stops as he swallowed Cas down.

“Dean,” Cas gasped, a hand flying to cup the back of Dean’s head. The fingers that twined gently through Dean’s hair only added to his desire to please and he hummed happily. Cas groaned and Dean felt his thigh muscles clench under his hands as Cas tried to stay still.

That wouldn’t do.

Taking a calming breath through his nose, Dean tapped into his relaxed state and took Cas deeper. The hand Cas had in his hair tightened briefly before, as Dean suspected, forcefully loosening. Cas was panting now, his head thrown back against the couch as he legs tensed and relaxed with the urge to thrust up. Dean re-doubled his efforts in hopes of getting Cas to finally break and fuck up into his mouth but unfortunately, Cas’ iron willpower wouldn’t allow it.

 _Next time, I’m adding that to the scene,_ Dean thought as he worked Cas over. He was very thrilled to see that Cas was getting close. Usually Cas could go for what felt like forever before he came and Dean decided it was a testament to how good he was making Cas feel that he was already about to burst.

“D-dean,” Cas moaned, tugging insistently on Dean’s hair. Dean already knew what he meant by it but he continued anyway. “Dean! I’m going to---”

In a small act of defiance (or at least that’s how Dean saw it), he gripped Cas tightly by the hips to hold him in place before taking him all the way down and swallowing around him once, twice, three then four times and then….

“Ohhhh, shit,” Cas groaned. His back bowed away from the back of the couch, his chest heaving as he came down Dean’s throat. It took some doing not to choke but Dean was determined and when he put his mind to something, shit got done.

In this case, this mean making Cas come his brains out.

When Cas finally fell boneless back against the couch, Dean pulled off and gingerly put Cas back into his pants. His own dick was throbbing in his underwear and he knew that if he looked down there would be a wet spot marking the front of them but he was surprised to note he didn’t feel an urgent need to get off. Would he like to reach down and jerk himself off? Sure, but there was something else that he wanted more. He could take care of himself later.

Moving from between Cas’ legs, Dean crawled back up onto the couch and curled up next to Cas, pillowing his head on Cas’ thigh. After a moment Cas placed a hand on Dean’s head; Dean preened as he realized it was heavy with post orgasmic exhaustion. 

“My beautiful pet,” Cas hummed and Dean could just picture the tired affection in his eyes. He didn’t look up to see it since he knew for a fact it was there. Cas rubbed his fingers over Dean’s scalp and Dean sighed in contentment.

Best afternoon ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I love writing gentle Dom Cas :D
> 
> Just a heads up, I think I've come up with a plan for my writing. As some of you know I have two works in progress at the moment, down time and my dcj FMA au. I've decided that I'm going to only focus on one work in progress at a time to try and take the pressure off working on them because doing both at the same time is stressing me out. Down time will be the first one I work on since it's been waiting longer to be finished. That's not to say that I might not get bit by the DCJ FMA muse and knock out a chapter here or there, that might happen, but I think it might help me to focus on finishing one of the two stories at a time instead of going back and forth.
> 
> And on the heels of that, I also want to let you guys know I'm signed up for two bingo challenges, SPN Kink Bingo and Biggo Bingo Bango. I wanted to give you a heads up since, looking at my list of ideas, Biggo Bingo Bango is going to be multi-fandom. I'm also think about signing up for MCU kink bingo because Stucky is slowly wearing me down and now I'm going to have to write some (damn those two **shakes fist**)


	15. Sadly Followed Closely by a Setback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Throws chapter at readers before running to the safety of my writing bunker**

“So you’re still okay to come with me then?” Dean asked, dodging a slow moving mail cart as he walked through the lobby of his office building. “Because I still have time to move my vacation around and I know Mom and Dad won’t mind if we---”

“Dean, for the millionth time, yes. I’ve had the days marked in my appointment book so I don’t have any classes or clients,” Cas’ affectionately exasperated voice came through the phone. “Breathe, Dean. Everything is fine.”

Pulling on the instincts ingrained into him from his yoga class, Dean took a big breath and held it for a second before breathing out slowly. The pause gave him enough time to realize he was being ridiculous. 

Everything was going to go fine.

 

A few weeks ago, Cas had casually asked if Dean was going to take a vacation at some point. They’d been together for months and Cas had noticed Dean hadn’t once taken a day off. Dean had known this was going to happen eventually and, as he’d predicted, Cas was not happy to find out that Dean didn’t usually use his vacation except when he was sick.

_“You are given your vacation time for a reason. You need to use it to rest and recharge as intended.”_

_“I don’t need to rest and recharge. That’s what weekends are for.”_

This had obviously been the wrong counterargument. They’d argued about it for a few days, Cas insisting that Dean needed to take advantage of his vacation while Dean countered with the fact that he needed to stay on track with his accounts. Dean had thought he’d won when Cas stopped mentioning the issue for a few days but then Cas had gone for the kill.

_“How long has it been since you’ve seen your parents, Dean?” Cas had asked casually one night while they’d been eating supper._

Which was how Dean began planning to take a small vacation back home. 

Cas hadn’t been wrong, it had been a long time since he’d been home and, more importantly, he wanted to go home for a bit. He wanted some of his mom’s home cooking, he wanted to listen to his dad affectionately bitch about whatever “idjit” he had working at the scrap yard, and he wanted to see how his sister’s metal shop was doing. 

Most importantly though, Dean wanted to bring Cas with him to meet his parents.

At first he’d thought it would be too soon to introduce Cas to his family. Maybe Cas didn’t even want to go with him. It wasn’t until he mentioned his worries to Charlie one day he visited her at the shop (though really it was more like he was lurking there to kill time until Cas was done with class) that he realized how ridiculous he was acting.

_“Dude, you’ve been seeing each other for months. If it weren’t for the fact that your family is so frackin’ far away, you would’ve already introduced them by now. And I bet you dollars to those uber delicious donuts from the cafe that Cas would be tickled pink to meet them.”_

Somehow this logical statement kept its impact despite the fact that Charlie was brandishing a tentacle dildo in his face to emphasizes her words, the tip of it actually bopping him in the nose. So that night, after talking (a.k.a. owning up to acting like an ass) to Cas, Dean had called his parents to tell them that he would be coming to visit and that he would be bringing someone with him.

_“Dean, honey, that’s great to hear,” his mom had said. There’d been a pause where she repeated what he’d said in response to his dad’s repeated “what did he say?”s in the background. “We can’t wait to see you, it’s been too damn long. And you tell your boy we’re very excited to meet him. Now when are you boys going be in town? I want to make sure I have the guest room ready…”_

Dean may have let his mom ramble on the phone for longer than normal, soaking in the sounds of home.

 

“Alright, alright,” Dean said, trying to sound annoyed but completely failing, as he exited the elevator. “I’ll try not to worry, okay? Now I gotta go, I’m already running a bit late and these accounts aren’t going to take care of themselves. I’ll see you tonight.”

With Cas’ warm goodbye still echoing in his ears, Dean walked into his office. He pulled out the notebook he’d started keeping to list the things he wanted to get done in a day, glancing through to see what he was going to start first once he got back to his desk. The list wasn’t too long now that he looked at it and, after his lunch and his brief stint outside, Dean was feeling pretty damn good for a work day.

Later, after he’d had time to think on it, he should’ve known things were going too well.

 

He’d almost missed it.

In his rush to get back to work after his slightly longer than normal lunch, Dean had been tempted to breeze into his office to get back to his desk. His mind had been ordering the list of things that absolutely need to be done before he left that night. He was just about to put his notebook back in his bag, when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sarah stiffen at her desk.

She was pointedly looking away from him but Dean could plainly see she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Sarah?” he asked, stopping at her desk. Dean studied her face and was alarmed to see she looked almost frightened. “Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

His mind reeled with a million possibilities of what could cause his assistant to look so worried. None of them were good of course, and some of them were absolutely ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. It was practically impossible to shake Sarah and this fact had Dean worried too.

Dean’s worries were not helped by the way Sarah’s eyes darted around the office at cubicles where the rest of the marketing team worked, typing away at their computers. She licked her lips nervously and stood up, pulling him towards his office. Sarah didn’t shut the door but when she spoke, her voice was low as if she didn’t want anyone to hear her.

“Dean,” she said quickly, another sign something was wrong. Sarah hardly ever called him by his first name. “I...well...I was taking those papers to Mr. Adler like you asked me to and I---I heard something I don’t think I was supposed to.”

“Okay,” Dean said slowly, trying to be calm in hopes that Sarah would relax a bit. “And what did you hear that has you worried”

He wondered what it could have been. Maybe it was about their bonuses. Dean had a feeling that, even though their department was knocking it out of the park consistently, he was going to have to break the bad news that there weren’t going to be any bonuses this year. Or maybe she overheard someone getting fired. That would be something that would be worrisome. If one person got fired, maybe there would be others---

“Mr. Adler never turned over the Stevenson account,” Sarah suddenly burst out in a breathless whisper.

Dean could only blink.

A gnawing pit opened up in his stomach and, out of self defense, Dean chuckled nervously. “What do you mean he didn’t turn over the account?” he asked, a tremendously horrible realization starting to creep into his mind. “I’ve been working with them for months now and---”

“Adler has been passing your work off on his own,” Sarah interrupted forcefully, stunning Dean into silence with the fire in her eyes. “I heard him talking to one of the board members. I don’t know which one but I heard the higher up praising Adler for completely turning the account around and that he was very impressed with Alder’s numbers.” She paused and huffed out an angry breath through her nose. “And that asshole took credit for all of it. Said he was glad that ‘burning the midnight oil’ was paying off and that ‘sacrifices needed to be made’ in order to do a good job.”

Dean’s hearing had gone fuzzy after Sarah had said that Adler hadn’t turned the account over to him. He wanted to tell Sarah that she obviously had misheard, that the mysterious board member had been congratulating Adler on giving the account to someone who did such a good job on it. 

But he knew that that would be straight up denial.

Alder swiping Dean’s work and passing it off as his own actually made a lot of sense. Dean had wondered why Adler would give up such a lucrative account. Sure there had been the possibility that he’d gotten a much better account but Dean had always wondered. This also explained why Alder was so persnickety about things like the formatting of the reports; he was essentially making sure that Teacher wouldn’t notice that Adler’s homework was in somebody else’s handwriting.

A crackling sound startled both him and Sarah and they looked down to see that Dean was choking the life out of the notebook he’d been carrying. It wasn’t until he saw the mangled remains of his notebook that Dean noticed just how goddamned angry he was.

That lazy goddamn motherfucking piece of shit.

Without another word (and ignoring the insistent tug from Sarah on his suit jacket), Dean marched out of his office. He didn’t really have any idea what exactly what he was going to do when he got there or if Adler was even going to be in his office considering the man was constantly taking two hour “business” lunches but Dean did know that Alder’s office was going to be his ultimate destination.

He must have looked calmer than he felt since no one batted an eye as he stalked past the cubicles to the elevators and the people that joined him in the elevator didn’t side-eye him. He was able to make it to Adler’s office in no time which meant he was almost boiling with anger by the time he arrived at his boss’ door. Dean stared at the office door for a moment before deciding his ire outstripped his common sense by a healthy margin and, not bothering to knock, he swung open the door and stepped inside before closing the door with a sharp snap behind him.

Adler started at his sudden entrance, dropping his phone onto his desk. He scowled heavily. “Winchester? Just who do you think---?”

“I know you’ve been stealing my work, Adler,” Dean said without preamble. To quote one of Charlie’s favorite phrases he ‘had no fucks to give anymore’ which meant that there was no way he was going to bother even pretending to go through pleasantries.

His sudden assault left Alder gaping in shock for a few moments and it gave Dean a small thrill of satisfaction to see his mouth opening and closing like a trout. Eventually Adler’s little pea-brain began to work and his mouth molded into frown. “Now wait just a minute,” Adler squawked, standing up and leaning over his desk. He was trying to intimidate Dean by puffing up and attempting to loom over him but all Dean could think of was how much he looked like a puffer fish. “How dare you come into my office, your boss’ office if I must remind you, and accuse me of thievery?”

Dean rolled his eyes which caused Adler to inhale sharply. If he thought Dean was suddenly going to switch back to being a pathetic little peon, he was sorely mistaken. He was running on pure unadulterated rage now and there was no going back.

“Oh, can the indignant act, you pompous ass,” Dean interrupted. To show Adler he didn’t scare him, he strode forward so the only thing separating them was Adler’s executive desk and leveled a glare at him. “You didn’t give me the Stevenson account. This whole time you’ve been having me do all your work for you so you can get all the credit. I overheard you talking about it on my way to the supply closet. Don’t even try to deny it.”

This last bit was a lie but Dean refused to implicate Sarah. She’d done nothing wrong and he’d be damned if she would be fired on his account. Adler didn’t have anyway of knowing that Dean hadn’t overheard the conversation himself anyway. 

The office slipped into silence with the exception of Adler’s heavy breathing. They stared each other down; Dean refused to break. He’d reached the end of his rope and it was time for Alder to realize just who he was dealing with.

Adler’s gaze narrowed and took on calculating air, putting Dean on the defensive. “Fine, it’s true,” he admitted before sitting down in his chair. Adler placed his hands behind his head and stretched leisurely. “I needed a way to freshen up the Stevenson account to rustle up some more business and I decided to outsource a bit of my work to you.”

“Yeah, outsource,” Dean scoffed, crossing his arms to prevent himself from socking Adler right in his smug fucking face. “I’m sure the board would be interested to hear about this ‘outsourcing’ method of yours. Maybe I ought to go up to the upper floors and tell them just what a genius you are...”

While his relaxed posture didn’t change, Dean was happy to note that Adler paled at this. 

_Got you now, asshole_ , Dean thought to himself. _It would be a pretty shitty day for you if your bosses found out that not only were you taking advantage of one of your employees but add in the fact that your employee was doing your job better than you..._

Adler sat up, placing his pudgy hands flat on the desk. “If you do that---I’ll make sure you never work in marketing again,” Adler sputtered. It was clear he was grasping at straws. “I’ve got connections, all it would take is a phone call to the right person and your ass would be fired.” He paused and appeared to regain his composure before smirking at Dean. He looked down at his fingernails idly, pretending to clean them against his suit. “Insider trading is such a nasty accusation, isn’t it?”

Shit…

That was something Dean hadn’t expected.

Considering the proprietary information Dean regularly had concerning the company’s business, it _would_ be insanely easy for Alder to plant the seed of doubt he was threatening. In comparison to other employees at the company, Dean was still relatively new and it was highly possible that if Adler whispered in the right ear, Dean would come under scrutiny. His being offered the option to purchase stock in the company (an offer he’d accepted eagerly) would definitely work in Adler’s favor.

Obviously nothing would be found, unless Adler somehow planted something for them to find that is, and Dean would be fine but those kind of accusations stuck to someone. Especially in big business. Dean’s ability to schmooze clients was based partially on his reliability. 

If people started to doubt his credibility, Dean could kiss some of his current (and possibly his past) clients goodbye. He’d lose his job and then what? Sure he might be able to get another job but it would probably have to be flipping burgers or slinging coffee. He’d have to leave the city, there was no way he could afford to live in the city when he’d only be making a pittance compared to his current salary. 

Fuck...what about Cas?

If he lost his job and had to move back home, what about his relationship with Cas? He could totally see Cas wanting to try the long distance thing, optimistic bastard that he was, but there was no way that being several states apart would ever work out. They’d have to break up. He’d have to let Cas go because it wouldn’t be fair for Dean to tie Cas down to him.

Just the thought of leaving Cas made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. 

_But what if you stayed with Cas in the city_ , a strangely calm part of his brain offered. _Cas wouldn’t let you slink back home. He’d want you to fight. Heck, he might even help you find a job somewhere._

Suddenly a vision of him helping Cas teach yoga classes popped into his head. It was a completely ridiculous notion. Dean knew he couldn’t teach yoga, he wasn’t nearly experienced enough to be certified as a yoga teacher but the idea of working with Cas, of not having to stress about random companies’ stupid accounts, of getting to have spare time to really dote on Cas….now that the idea was idea….

It might just be possible that losing his job might be good for him.

Dean, to his own and to Adler’s visible surprise, laughed. 

“Go ahead,” Dean said, spreading his arms wide as if to offer a better target. He chuckled again, snapping his fingers as if an idea had just occurred to him. “In fact, I’ll do you one better. I’ll go talk to the board and I’ll hand in my resignation at the same time. It’ll save you some work which I’m sure you’ll appreciate.” Dean turned on his heel and started to walk towards the door. “I don’t need this shitty job any more. There are plenty of companies that would kill to have someone like me work for them---

Dean, feeling the lightest he’d ever felt in his life, started to turn the doorknob. Visions of what he’d say to the board when he turned Adler’s ass in were dancing in his mind when Adler stopped him in his tracks. 

“Alright, then what about your assistant?”

Dean’s hand gripped the doorknob tight as his heart started to race. 

No, there wasn’t anything Adler could do to Sarah. Sarah was only Dean’s assistant, she didn’t have anything to---

“Such a shame if she were to be fired for incompetence,” Adler continued. Dean turned slowly to see that Adler was leaning over his desk, grinning a horrible toothy grin. “That kind of reputation tends to spread, she’d never get work again.” He stood up straight and began to walk around his desk towards Dean, his hands clasped behind his back. He pretended to look surprised. “Oh and a couple of your employees could suddenly find their jobs sent to the west coast office. ‘Sorry, no option for relocation, boys. Have fun looking for jobs in this economy.’”

Dean felt as if his stomach was made of lead.

Adler stopped in front of him, trapping him between the door and his body. All of Dean’s earlier bravado was slowly dwindling in the face of this new development. His heart began racing as his mind whirled to find a solution but nothing came to him.

He was stuck.

He knew that Adler could do as he said. While the smug bastard was a lazy piece of shit, he was a lazy piece of shit with connections. Dean was always seeing him schmoozing with the board members and with human resources. It wasn’t ethical but Dean knew for a fact that sometimes all it took was for Adler to whisper in the right ears and suddenly, things changed.

This hadn’t been a problem with it came to himself being the one on the chopping block...but his assistant and his team?

Dean couldn’t do that to them. It wouldn’t be right.

Taking a deep breath, Dean glared at Adler. “Alright, you son of a bitch, what do you want?”

It was a small point of pride that Dean repressed a shudder at the nasty smirk that crept over Alder’s face which was nice, considering he had a feeling it would be last thing he’d be proud of for a long time.

 

“Dean, I thought you were coming by tonight? Is something wrong?”

Swallowing hard, Dean stared down at the picture of Cas that was displayed on his phone. It was a selfie of them both actually. They’d been laying in bed one morning and Cas had stolen his phone and snapped the picture. Dean had loved it so much he put it up as the contact photo for Cas even if he didn’t normally like pictures of himself. He’d never thought there would come a day that he would dread seeing that picture pop up.

But then today had been a pretty spectacularly shitty day.

Dean stalled for time by putting his phone on speaker. “Oh, well, yeah, I’d been planning on it,” he said, forcing himself to talk casually and praying that Cas’ sixth sense was on the fritz today. “But I was looking at my to do list of things that need to be taken care of before I go on vacation and it looks like I’ll need to put in a little extra work to get things ready.”

To be honest, Dean was completely shocked Adler had even let him keep his vacation as part of the laundry list of things he’d demanded for not firing Sarah and his team. This was probably due to the fact that human resources had already greenlighted his time off but a small part of Dean suspected that Adler was looking forward to how utterly swamped Dean would be when he got back from vacation. Especially when he’d be able to honestly say it was all Dean’s own fault.

“So you’re going back to working all the ridiculous overtime?” Cas asked, sounding both crestfallen and a little angry. “Working that much isn’t good for you, Dean. Stress is one of the leading causes of health problems and---”

“It’s only temporary,” Dean butted in. “Just until I get everything caught up after I get back from vacation.” He paused for a second. “This is just kinda like prep work is all.” He wasn’t sure he could take the guilt of listening to Cas talk about his health while at the same time stretching the truth. 

_Stretching the truth? More like lying your ass off_ , Dean’s conscience piped in. _You’re just afraid to tell Cas because Cas would march his yoga ass down here and beat the shit out of Adler._

And that was about the sum of it. 

Dean knew that not telling Cas about what Adler had done was completely decimating the rule they’d established concerning honesty but it couldn’t be helped. He needed more time in order to come up with a plan and if he told Cas, Cas wouldn’t rest until Dean reported Adler to the board.

But, now that Dean had had time to cool off and think, he knew that his original plan wouldn’t work. He knew how big businesses like this worked. Getting someone as high up as Adler rightfully reprimanded for his misdeeds wasn’t as easy as going to HR or Adler’s superiours with a complaint. The company had spent a lot of money headhunting Adler (though as to why, Dean would never understand considering what a shitty employee he was) and they would rather deal with any issue that came up quietly rather than admit that Adler had been an unwise investment. 

Which was why Dean needed to have a plan before he made his move...or at least that was the lie he was telling himself anyway.

There was a pause on the phone and Dean waited with baited breath to see if Cas would let Dean’s excuse stand without scrutiny. Dean was starting to think that Cas had seen right through him when a sigh came over the phone.

“Well, I guess it’s not too bad if it’s only temporary,” Cas said. Dean’s stomach twisted at the disappointment in Cas’ voice and guilt gnawed at him. Cas just accepted what Dean had said even if it was so obviously a load of crap. 

_I’m such a shitty boyfriend,_ Dean thought grimly to himself.

“So I guess I won’t be see much of you until we leave to visit your parents” Cas said resignedly and Dean could picture Cas putting on his ‘I’m going to make the best of this face’. 

Dean hung his head in his hands and sighed. “Yeah, that seems to be the case.” 

“We’ll just have to capitalize on the time we do have then,” Cas replied. He sounded more upbeat than he had been but Dean figured it was just an act. There was a pause before Cas began speaking again. “Oh! Before I let you get back to work, I have to tell you about what happened in my one class today…”

Smiling slightly to himself despite the horrible guilt wracking him, Dean propped his phone next to his computer and, with Cas’ soothing voice washing over him, started working. A pile of files sat at the corner of his desk and Dean was determined to get through them tonight, even if he had to take them home with him because the sooner he got his work completed, the sooner he’d get to go home.

And more importantly, the sooner he’d get to see Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Peeks out tentatively**  
> So....on a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you guys at me?
> 
> Also, Adler needs to go and take a long walk off a short cliff. And Dean, sweet Dean, why must you back slide so? I will say though, Dean's theory about his original plan of just turning Adler in not working is based on my own experiences. Not that a situation like this has ever happened to me but I deal with a lot of high up business people (Division Heads, VPs, and the like) and let me tell you, the amount of major level screw ups some of them are allowed to just get away with without being fired astounds me.


	16. And A Lot of Guilt

“Do you need anything Mr. Winchester,” Sarah asked, her voice subdued.

Dean looked up from his desk and forcing his lips into a small smile. He hadn’t mentioned anything that had happened in Adler’s office to anyone but it was child’s play for Sarah to put the pieces together. She tried not to let on that she knew the broad strokes of what went down that afternoon but Dean could tell from the guilt ridden glances she gave him when she thought he wasn’t looking, she was at least very close to the mark. 

“No, I’m fine, Sarah,” he said, patting the pile of files in front of him. “I’m actually going to be packing these up to go.” He chuckled dryly at his attempt at lightening the mood and, as he’d hoped, Sarah’s face brightened a bit. Not a lot but a little so he counted that as a win.

“Okay then, I’ll be heading out now.” Sarah smiled and turned to walk back out of Dean’s office. There was the click of her lamp being turned out, the rustle of Sarah picking up her bag and coat, followed by a muffled ‘good night’ as she left the office.

Dean added one more file to his stack before slipping it and his laptop into his bag. He hadn’t been giving Sarah a line of crap (like he used to) about going home. Well, he was going to Cas’ so there was that but either way, he wasn’t going to stay here. It was small act of rebellion that he allowed himself, just about the only one actually.

Adler may have forced him back to working ten to eleven hour days but he couldn’t force Dean to spend the whole time at the office.

Cas wasn’t happy that Dean was bringing work home with him again but he was forcing that dislike down which of course made Dean feel like a real sleaze. Ever since the initial clusterfuck, Cas had been doting on him constantly and it was giving Dean emotional whiplash. Cas’ pampering, honed to a devastating art after months of being together in addition to his natural observance, was powerfully relaxing and made Dean’s days so much more amazing than he would have ever imagined they could be.

Amazing at least, until Dean remembered that this treatment was only due to him lying to Cas like a damn rug.

Dean’s phone pinged, jerking him out of his reverie and reminding him that he _didn’t_ want to spend all night at the office. He finished closing up his bag, grabbed his phone, and left his office. While he was walking down the hall, he opened the text he’d received.

_From Cas: I’m making pork chops, bacon mac’n’cheese and a fruit salad so make sure you come over hungry ;)_

Reading this gave Dean the very unpleasantly unique sensation of his stomach attempting to growl to show its approval to this delicious meal while simultaneously rolling over with guilt. This… this was entirely more than Dean deserved but being the utter shit that he was, he was going to go over to Cas’ and let his boyfriend coddle him while he finished up some work. He paused in the lobby to reply.

_To Cas: Awesome, I’m starving. See you in a bit._

Sighing and cursing himself for being too weak to man up and tell the truth, Dean left the building and headed out to his car. 

 

Dean let himself into Cas’ apartment with the key Cas had forced on him a while back. The apartment smelled so damn amazing Dean swore he felt some tension ooze out of his shoulders as soon as he was fully inside, just from a single whiff of it. He shucked his coat, kicked off his shoes, and was in the middle of setting down his bag when arms snuck around his waist.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas murmured in his ear. Dean could feel his smile against his neck and while it made the near constant guilt twinge, it didn’t stop him from leaning back into Cas’ warmth. “Dinner’s ready though it’s still pretty hot, why don’t you go change into something comfy while I dish out our supper?”

“Okay,” Dean hummed, reluctant to get out of the embrace but doing so anyway because Cas had asked him to do something. One of the ways Dean was helping to assuage his guilt was by giving Cas his total obedience; anything Cas asked him to do, he didn’t argue. It wasn’t as if anything Cas asked of him wasn’t meant to pamper him anyway. So Dean pulled away and, after stopping to drop his bag off in the living room, went to Cas’ room to change into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he found laid out on the bed. 

After he was ensconced in a pair of clothes that enveloped him in Cas’ cologne, Dean wandered back out into the living room to see Cas setting two glasses of water onto the coffee table next to a single plate. There was a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor too. The sight of these two things together made him shiver.

A single plate plus cushions meant Cas had extra plans for them tonight.

Cas, probably hearing the shuffle of Dean’s socked feet on the carpet, looked up and smiled. “You seemed tense so I thought you might enjoy a little bit of play time,” he said before sobering up for a second. “If I’m wrong, let me know and I’ll go get you a plate.”

“No, no, I’m up for it,” Dean reassured him. Even if he did feel like a lying ass for doing so, he wasn’t going to turn down Cas feeding him; hand-feeding had quickly become one of Dean’s top ten things in the world. “I mean, it can’t be a full on scene because I need to get some papers done but I would really like it if we could do that.”

At this Cas grinned. “Good, I’m going to grab some fruit salad and we can begin.”

Dean walked over to his bag and began to set up his laptop and papers on the coffee table while Cas disappeared back into the kitchen. By the time he had everything arranged so he could work while sitting at Cas’ feet, Cas was back bearing a large bowl piled high with fruit and while Dean usually preferred desserts that landed on the more unhealthy side of the scale, he was really looking forward to getting to that part of the meal.

Though maybe he was more excited about getting to get his mouth on Cas’ juice cover fingers.

Cas sat the bowl down and then sat himself on the couch, gesturing for Dean to take his place on the cushioned area he’d put together. Dean eagerly sank to his knees before sitting down on the blankets. They’d quickly established that Dean’s knees weren’t exactly helped by extended kneeling so Cas had him sitting cross legged from the get go these days.

Without a word, Cas picked up the plate of food and scooped a healthy bite of mac’n’cheese unto a fork. He held it out to Dean who opened his mouth to receive it. Even if it wasn’t exactly hand-feeding, Dean still got a small thrill out of the act. While Dean was chewing, Cas speared a piece of pork chop for himself before starting the cycle anew.

And so their evening went. 

Dean would input data from his files in between being fed bites of Cas’ amazingly delicious food. Sometimes there would be a pause for Cas to give him a drink of water or for Cas to wipe some stray food from Dean’s mouth. The best moments were when Cas would stop in order to run his fingers through Dean’s hair, making Dean want to literally purr like a cat. But of course it was during these times that his brain would oh so helpfully remind him of the ever growing lake of guilt in his stomach and this would bring his elation down to a more appropriate level.

Eventually the plate emptied, shortly followed by the bowl of fruit (Cas had fed him by hand for that and Dean enjoyed each bite tremendously), and Cas asked if he wanted anymore. Dean shook his head, opting for silence today. He’d been doing that a lot lately but luckily for him, it seemed that Cas just assumed that Dean didn’t enjoy talking when he was ‘pet’. This was true of course but there were times Dean wanted to speak but he didn’t trust himself not to break down and spill his guts. He needed more time to come up with his plan before he came clean.

And oh yeah, plans...

While Cas got up to get rid of their dishes, Dean finished a few last lines of data entry and saved his work before closing the files. His laptop was quickly shut down and put back into his bag, the file folders following so that by the time Cas came back from the kitchen, Dean was just shuffling back into position. This time he was on his knees. Dean could feel Cas’ eyes on him as he came back the couch and he hoped Cas would catch on quickly enough. 

Cas sat down and looked at him. He raised an eyebrow, questioning. Dean nodded eagerly so Cas’ lips curled into a small smile and he re-adjusted his legs so there was space, a space that Dean immediately slid into to fill. 

The room buzzed with that special energy despite the fact this wasn’t really a full scene. Dean ran his hands up Cas’ thighs, the feel of the soft warm material of Cas’ sweatpants made his palms tingle. Cas looked down at him and Dean was happy to see that his breathing was getting faster. He gripped the waistband of Cas’ sweats and tugged lightly; Cas obligingly lifted his hips so Dean could slide his pants down enough to free his cock.

Dean shuffled forward so that he was able to run his lips over Cas’ half hard length. Despite his guilt and his worries, he felt his mind slipping into that soft fuzzy state that was now very familiar. This routine, getting on his knees to worship Cas like he deserved, had actually gotten very familiar as of late, not that Dean was going to complain. 

It was one of the only things keeping his guilt at bay.

At some point, Dean had started to assuage his guilt by showering Cas with as much attention as he could. This attention was usually sex though Dean did do little things like taking Cas tea after his saturday classes when he wasn’t working, it was still usually sex. Spoiling Cas was surprisingly difficult Dean found. Cas, being himself, always tried to make sex and scenes about Dean; the man was a natural giver and it was extremely hard to get Cas to let the focus be on him. 

He’d tried to stealthily get Cas to reveal what he would want from Dean but even when Dean was able to worm an answer out of him and put it to use, Cas would make it about Dean. The problem had nagged him for a few days before Dean settled on his next, and his so far most successful, plan.

Scenes and sex that inevitably ended in blow jobs.

In retrospect, Dean was surprised it took him so long to think of it. Blowing Cas was basically a win/win. Dean got to feel a little less guilty for lying to Cas and Cas got to feel like Dean was the one who was the center of attention and...Cas got a blow job. The truly the best part was that Cas _let_ him do it. He figured this was because they’d already established that Dean had a thing for having Cas’ dick in his mouth and that maybe Cas figured it was one of his kinks. Which it completely was so Dean really did enjoy every damn second.

And since he enjoyed it so much, Dean didn’t even have to add the strain of another lie on top of the big whopper of a lie he was already telling.

Dean settled easily into pleasing Cas. After spending a leisurely amount of time running his lips up and down the silky smooth skin of Cas’ cock, Dean brought his tongue into play. Judging by the soft groan that filled the room, Cas approved of this choice. 

“So good to me,” Cas sighed, stroking Dean’s hair. “Always so good.”

Goosebumps broke out down his arms and Dean moaned. The guilt Dean felt was locked away and he allowed himself to soak in Cas’ praise. Every light scrape of Cas’ fingers in his hair, every pleasure soaked sound that Dean managed to pull out of Cas, made the weight of the situation fall from his shoulders. The momentary relief he felt reminded him of that very first post yoga class meditation; he floated pleasantly as he lavished attention on his boyfriend.

The fingers in his hair tightened slowly and Cas’ hips began to twitch up. Dean, recognizing the signs, put his all into making the experience the best it could be for Cas. He backed off for a second in order prepare himself before taking Cas all the way down. Dean couldn’t smile in his current state but he preened at the strangled gasp above him.

Cas’ hands fluttered at the back of his head but Dean didn’t let up, he gripped Cas’ hips tightly and worked his mouth up and down until---

“Dean!” Cas arched up, unconsciously pushing Dean closer to him until he collapsed bonelessly against the couch.

Slowly Dean pulled away, smiling. There, that was better. He gently tucked Cas back into his sweats, taking care to rearrange the hem of his t-shirt so it wasn’t rucked up anymore. Then, feeling a bone deep sense of contentment, Dean crawled up onto the couch and snuggled up under Cas’ arm.

“What about you,” Cas hummed, his lips moving against Dean’s forehead when he turned to speak. Cas’ fingers rested just next to the slight bulge in Dean’s borrowed sweatpants.

Dean shook his head and sighed. “I’m fine. That was just for you,” he said, giving Cas a smile. “Besides I’m ready for bed.”

For a moment Cas seemed to study him and Dean felt his heartbeat skip for a second as the idea that Cas had finally put the pieces together but Cas’ intent expression changed. He smiled softly at him. “Okay,” he said, kissing Dean on the top the head, “I’m not going to argue with some extra sleep.”

So Cas stood and herded Dean down the hall. Even though he shouldn’t have, Dean let Cas fuss over him. He let Cas strip him down to his boxers after they’d brushed their teeth and used the bathroom before bed and he let Cas bundle him up in the sheets and blankets before tucking him against his side. It made Cas happy to do these things and since Dean’s goal was to make Cas as happy as possible, he supposed it was alright.

Besides, he could always do better in regards to his plan tomorrow.

 

Another two weeks past in pretty much the same fashion.

Dean worked his ass off, trying to keep his head above water and mostly succeeding. Adler of course was being a complete and utter bag of dicks. Now that Adler’s little game was out in the open, Dean noticed that the demands had gotten more ridiculous but then he wasn’t really surprised. He’d expected and planned accordingly when he could, avoiding the pitfalls he was almost certain Adler was purposefully putting in his path, until he finally was able to leave the day before his vacation sharted.

Going home with his computer and a few files to work on during his vacation wasn’t truly a victory but is sure felt like one to Dean.

He continued to feel guilty as Cas went above and beyond with making sure he was taken care of to Cas’ standards but with liberal application of his own plan to pamper Cas, Dean felt he was at least making up for a small part of his massive lie. If Cas suspected why Dean was acting the way he was, Dean had yet to see any sign of it though it was highly likely this wasn’t because Dean was a smooth as he like to think. In fact, he wondered if Cas’ odd lack of intuition was due to nerves.

Cas had been tense for the past few days which was an unheard of state of affairs. At first Dean had been pretty confused since Cas was the epitome of calm, cool, and collected and it was extremely bizzare and a bit unsettling to see him acting otherwise. True, Cas was hiding it well by continuing to shower him with affection but Dean could see the tension that lurked in Cas’ shoulders; the only time Dean saw it disappear was when they were taking part in their small scenes.

It had taken Dean a while to figure out what was causing Cas’ distress but then he’d caught a glimpse of Cas’ calendar the one night and the pieces clicked together. He stared at the large arrow that ran through seven days’ worth of the calendar paired with Cas’ precise but slightly messy scrawl, “Visit Dean’s Family.”

Yep, that’d do it.

Dean’s first instinct was to go and try and force some sense into Cas. His family was going to love him, Dean could almost guarantee it. There was absolutely no reason for him to worry. He’d even been halfway to turning around and marching into the living room to tell Cas just as much when he paused.

Was this really the best way to go about this?

On one hand, Dean hated the idea of Cas being nervous and he wanted to remedy that situation as soon as he could but on the other...he wondered if he was even going to be able to convince Cas not to worry. As someone who was practically a professional at worrying, Dean knew that it was almost useless to try to get Cas to relax and not think about what where they were going. Cas had probably had those very same thoughts but Dean knew very well how convincing those shitty voices in someone’s head could be.

Leaning against the counter, Dean pondered his next move. It only took a few minutes of scouring his brain to figure out what he needed to do, the answer was that simple. Dean grinned as he left the kitchen.

Yeah, that’d work.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Cas asked, pausing outside the bathroom door. He held the bundle of clothes Dean had picked out for him to his chest as he peered back into the bedroom at Dean.

Dean walked over to the doorway, leaned forward, and kissed Cas on the mouth before pulling away. “Yes. I’m sure and I really think this will do us both some good,” he answered and, to further impress this fact, Dean forced his face into a one of mock severity right before he swatted Cas lightly on the ass. “Now go on and get dressed, I’ll be waiting the guest room until you text me.”

Cas nodded and did as he was told. Dean was happy to see a grin toying at his lips as he turned to head into the bathroom. Once the door clicked shut, Dean left the bedroom to go to the guest room where he immediately stripped down to nothing. He looked over to the guest bed where, as Cas had said it would be, his collar sat waiting on one of the pillows. Reaching out, Dean carefully picked it up and fastened it around his neck. It wasn’t quite as satisfying as having Cas put it on but, for what they had planned, Dean needed to put his collar on himself.

As he waited for his phone to chime with the go text from Cas, Dean thought about what was to come.

_“I was thinking,” Dean had said, sitting down next to Cas two days before they were set to leave to visit his parents, “we’ve both been pretty keyed up the past few days...I was thinking maybe we could take advantage my extra day off.”_

_Cas had looked over at him, intrigued. “You mean the day you set aside to pack?”_

_“It’s not going to take us all day to pack, I just wanted to get out of the office a day early,” Dean had pointed out. He’d slid into Cas’ lap then, bringing out the big guns to his aid, and threaded his fingers through Cas’ hair. Cas neck had been stiff and tense but Dean was going to fix that. “I kinda wanted to try something new. Nothing too crazy but...new.”_

_He’d known as soon as he’d seen that spark in Cas’ eyes that he had him._

_“What do you have in mind?”_

The pinging of Dean’s phone sent a thrill down his spine; he didn’t even have to look at the screen to see it was from Cas. Licking at his lips, Dean hurried out into the hall and down into Cas’ living room. Dean noted the pillow by the door and smiled. Cas couldn’t resist taking care of him.

Dean knelt down on the pillow, arranging himself just so. His nerves were singing and his palms were sweating but in that oddly pleasant way that tended to happen before something exciting happened. A few seconds of deep breathing helped to calm him and soon he raised a hand and knocked twice.

The pause after his signal felt like it took forever, but then the door was opening.

Cas strode through the door, being sure that the door didn’t remain longer than necessary. He stopped in front of Dean and looked down at him. Dean allowed himself one brief glimpse upward and those fleeting seconds made his breath catch in his throat. 

He’d known the suit would be perfect.

“Hello, pet. Did you miss me while I was away?” Cas said. The smoky gravel of Cas’ voice made Dean’s toes curl. Two fingers touched Dean under the jaw, forcing him to look up so that he was faced with the absolutely gorgeous view of Cas wearing a dark suit paired with a deep blue tie. 

The suit was sexy enough on its own but paired with Cas’ intense gaze...Dean began to wonder if he was going to make it through this with his dignity intact. Dean had hoped that the suit would play on that underlying power that Dean could feel during those rare moments Cas let his dominant side win out over his calm yoga teacher exterior and it did. It really really did.

At the sound of Cas lightly clearing his throat, Dean remembered he had a part to play. He nodded and softly said, “yes, sir.”

Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, scratching at his scalp, and sighed. “I missed you too. I hate having to leave my sweet pet here all alone,” Cas paused and looked as his he were thinking as though they hadn’t planned out what was next. If the yoga/massage gig ever went south, Cas would have a decent chance at being an actor; Dean actually started to wonder what Cas would say once he spoke again. Cas looked back down at him and smiled. “Did you get all your chores done today?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, purposefully looking away and pretending to look nervous. While he’d been the one to suggest a bit of roleplay, he’d actually been a bit worried that he would feel ridiculous, lying about make believe things he hadn’t done, but Dean was finding that this acting stuff wasn’t too hard. Especially considering he was able to tap into his actual guilt.

Which was sort of the point of the whole thing which also meant it was extremely easy for Dean’s heart to jump into his throat when Cas narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him.

“Is that so?” Cas mused, nodding ever so slightly as his eyes wandered around the room. “Then why do I see dishes in the sink?”

There were no dishes in the sink of course but apparently that was the chore Cas thought Dean would try to get out of. Cas levelled a stern glare at him, his mouth flattening into a thin disapproving line that was definitely more attractive than it had any right to be.

“Dean,” he said firmly. Dean’s stomach flipped nervously even though he knew Cas was only pretending. “I do believe you lied to me.” He paused so he could lean closer to Dean’s face. “You didn’t do as you were told and you tried to fib your way out of it.” There was another pause, obviously designed to ratchet up the building anticipation. “You know what that gets you, don’t you?”

Swallowing, Dean lowered his head and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Cas stood up straight so he loomed over him. His arm shot out to the side and his finger pointed to the couch. “Over to the couch, naughty pet.”

Despite his elated state at what was about to happen, Dean made a show of slinking his way over to the couch. Just because he was going to like what came next didn’t mean he couldn’t put a bit of showmanship into it. Once he kneeling by the couch (another set of pillows and blankets there to cushion his knees), Cas followed him after shucking his suit coat and loosening his tie. Not taking it off all the way, just loosening it in a way that Dean had admitted would drive him insane.

Cas settled himself down on the couch at a leisurely pace, dragging out the anticipation of what was to come to the point Dean’s fingers twitched with the desire to shove Cas into position himself. Just as Dean was about to start squirming with impatience, Cas stilled and levelled that stern gaze on him again. He patted his lap.

Dean shivered and his cock twitched as he eagerly, probably too eagerly for someone about to be reprimanded, crawled into Cas’ lap. Having his ass on display in the air made him feel strangely vulnerable but this feeling quickly disappeared when a warm hand began to lightly caress the bare skin of one cheek.

“Let’s see,” Cas said lightly, sounding for all the world as if he were going to be discussing this week’s grocery list or something else mundane. Dean wasn’t sure why but this airy sense of detachment set at odds with the situation a hand was really doing things for him. He felt himself starting to get hard already and they’d barely started. “That’s twenty for lying and another ten for not doing as you were told…” 

His heart jumped in his chest as Dean absorbed that amount. Now that he was here across Cas’ lap, bare ass hanging in the breeze, thirty suddenly sounded like a very large number. He licked his lips and was just wondering how Cas would react to an interruption when Cas continued to speak.

“But, you’ve been such a good boy up until this point,” Cas mused, hand still rubbing leisurely circles into Dean’s skin. “I think, excluding my warming up this delectable rear, we’ll call it square at a round dozen. Does that sound fair, my pet?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered, relieved that once again, Cas was already two steps ahead of him. “That sounds fair.”

“Then let’s begin,” Cas said in a business like manner right before bringing his hand down to meet Dean’s bare ass cheek with a light yet firm slap.

Dean most certainly did not yelp in shock.

 

The warm up was actually oddly enjoyable.

Cas laid down a steady stream of spanks to Dean’s rear, making sure to spread them out evenly so that no part of his flesh was left wanting attention. It was almost hypnotic the way Cas kept every movement uniform. Dean quickly found he really really enjoyed that moment of anticipation between one smack and the next, not knowing for certain where the next jolt of sensation would land made his lower belly tighten deliciously and his fingers flex against the material of the couch.

Dean, slightly fuzzy brained, blinked when he realized the spanks had stopped.

“Ah, there we go,” Cas said, his voice almost reverent as he slid his hands delicately over Dean’s lightly toasted ass. “So beautiful. I knew you’d looks absolutely delectable with a pink-tinged ass.” Another playful slap had Dean’s hips rutting into Cas’ thigh which earned him a slightly harder one. “Ah ah ah. None of that now, You’re being punished if you do recall.” There was a pause as Cas ran a delicate finger over one of Dean’s cheeks. “I won’t make you count these,” he said almost distractedly. Dean practically feel Cas’ gaze on him, observing his handy work, and it made him shiver. “I want you to think of this as a meditation to reflect on how you might motivate yourself to do your chores in the future.”

Or in other words, Cas wanted Dean to just sit back and feel. It was one of Cas’ things, Dean focusing on sensation. Dean figured it was some of Cas’ yoga teacher mode poking through; he was always instructing the class to focus on the sensations when they were in down dog for the millionth time and their arms were starting to shake.

Dean was broken out of his musings by a much more powerful slap to his ass. Caught unawares, he gasped though whether due to the brief bite of pain or the spark of sensation as his leaking cock was jostled against Cas’ lap wasn’t certain. It was probably both.

He tried to make an effort to keep count, thinking that it would be worth the practice considering they were most definitely going to be revisiting this whole spanking thing. Of course Dean might have well as not bothered. By the time they were on the third slap, Dean was thoroughly distracted by the stinging ache in his muscles that contrasted amazingly with the needy ache in his dick. He knew he was rutting in Cas’ lap again but it seemed Cas was okay with this since Dean wasn’t reprimanded like before.

Just as Dean was really getting into the sensation and beginning to really relish the back and forth of being spanked followed by the fantastic rush of grinding into Cas’ muscled thighs, he was being pulled upwards.

“Wha--?” Dean mumbled, brain still nice and squishy. He looked over to see Cas smiling at him.

“Your punishment is over, pet,” he said, reaching down to give a brisk rub to Dean’s sensitive skin. He chuckled at the undignified squeak that burst out of Dean. “You’ve redeemed yourself.”

God, if those words didn’t feel better than the spanking had.

...at least until sharp twinge hit Dead and he realized that no, he hadn’t _really_ made up for everything. Sure he’d “redeemed” himself for his fictional wrongdoing of forgetting the dishes but he was still a bad bad boyfriend for being a filthy liar. This jolt back down to reality didn’t really ruin Dean’s floaty buzz (a fact he was shamefully happy for) but it did remind him that he had one more thing to accomplish tonight. 

“Thank you, sir,” Dean murmured. He slipped his way to the floor, worked his way between Cas’ obliging legs, and rested his palms lightly on Cas’ thighs before looking up at Cas contritely. “Please let me show you how grateful I am for the chance to make up for my mistakes.”

_I just hope you feel this way in the future_ , Dean thought morosely, already thinking of what Cas’ face might look like the day he finally came clean. He doubted it would look as pleased and proud when that happened. 

There was a tense moment wherein Cas only stared at him. He was probably trying to decide if he should accept considering they’d only really discussed the spanking. Dean helped assuage his reluctance by reaching out to toy with the buckle on Cas’ belt. A few seconds later, Cas was nodding; Dean had noticed he was getting better at trusting Dean to suggest things he actually wanted to do, not things that would make Cas happy.

Dean pointedly ignored the voice that told him that he wasn’t worthy of that trust either.

To distract him from his traitorous (i.e. entirely correct) thoughts Dean made short work of Cas’ pants and underwear before settling in to give Cas the best blow job he could muster up.

Fifteen minutes later after Cas had come with a choked gasp, his fingers tugging on on Dean’s hair, Dean felt like he could take on the entire world. At least for the moment.

 

After Dean had gotten off (a state of affairs Cas had insisted on which had lead to an embarrassingly short handjob), Cas helped Dean up to his feet and they shuffled their way to the bedroom. Dean was immediately banished to lay on his stomach on the bed while Cas gathered his preferred post spanking snacks which were fed to him while Cas treated his irritated skin.

The aloe felt goddamn amazing on his ass.

Cas’ intense post scene pampering brought back a faint tinge of guilt but Dean was feeling too good to care for the moment. It was selfish of him to accept Cas’ kindness while at the same time lying to his face but Dean wasn’t sure what to do. Even if he did want to come clean, he was in too deep now. The only way to make everything turn out was to push through, to just put up with Adler’s bullshit (and more importantly his heavy guilt for lying) until he had a solid plan. Once he had this mystical plan, Dean was sure everything would be alright.

Lips brushed Dean’s hair and he jolted, having not realizing that he’d started to drift to sleep. He blushed at Cas’ soft chuckle. “I think it’s time for bed,” Cas said, kissing the top of Dean’s head again before rubbing a hand down Dean’s back. “We’ve got an early day tomorrow, not to mention all that driving.”

So together they shuffled to the bathroom to get ready for bed, though it was more like Cas practically carried Dean’s sleepy ass so that he could brush his teeth, before crawling into bed. Dean immediately suctioned himself to Cas’ side like a leech but Cas didn’t seem to mind. He was about to drift off when Cas spoke.

“I’m worried about you, Dean,” Cas said abruptly. It seemed like he hadn’t even wanted to say it out loud but something had forced him to. Dean understood the feeling. “I know this isn’t the best time to talk about it but I am. That company has you working so hard and I hate seeing you look so stressed and tired.”

“It sucks but it’s necessary,” Dean said, stalling for time to think of how to respond. He also thanked his lucky stars that the room was dark and Cas couldn’t see his face though he buried it into Cas’ side just to be safe. “And besides, it’s only temporary.”

_Or at least I hope it will be_.

Cas sighed heavily before rubbing Dean’s back. “I know but I can’t help feeling useless. I can’t help to remove the source of your stress and that irritates me.”

It took monumental effort but Dean managed to push himself up so that he could look up at Cas’ face. It was shrouded in shadow but Dean could picture the furrow between Cas’ brows which was not acceptable so the only solution was to lean forward to clumsily kiss it away.

“You aren’t useless,” Dean said firmly, needing Cas to understand. “You are literally the only reason I’m not back to living off of coffee and only sleeping for four hours a night.” He paused and cupped Cas’ cheek with his hand. “The only reason I can handle all this is I get to come home to you.”

Dean felt Cas wrap his fingers lightly around his wrist before he pressed his lips lightly to his palm. The quiet of the room was broken by the rustle of blankets caused by Cas sitting up so he could lean forward to give Dean’s lips the same treatment.

“I suppose you won’t allow me to argue against that?” he asked when he pulled away. Dean could hear the smile in his voice. “That I’m actually not helping at all?”

Smiling, Dean shuffled so that he was back to hugging Cas’ side. “Nope,” he said with a grin, burrowing his face into Cas’ chest. “I’m totally right so it’s best you just focus on getting a good night’s sleep. I like to leave early to avoid traffic.”

“Of course,” Cas said teasingly, finally settling. “I shall defer to your good judgement.”

As Cas’ breathing started to slow and deepen, Dean found that he wasn’t quite able to to fall asleep. Cas’ final words, spoken as a joke, kept repeating themselves in Dean’s mind. He mentally shook himself and forced himself to focus on syncing his breathing to Cas’ in order to go to sleep.

And to help smother the voice that so helpfully mused on whether his judgment really was that good in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, another chapter down. This one was a fighter, probably because we're still in angst-town, but according to my calculations, we should be boarding a train out of there here in two chapters or so. :)
> 
> Next up, meeting the family....


	17. But Then There Was A Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon story time:  
> Just as a heads up so that things make a little more sense...for this story I have a headcanon that Bobby and John are brothers. John is married to Mary and they have their son Sam while Bobby married Ellen and they had Dean and Jo. That's why Bobby, Ellen, and Jo are all Winchesters. I wanted to kinda use the set up they had in the "It's a Terrible Life" episode but I wanted Dean to still be a Winchester.
> 
> Okie dokie, story time over, on to the fic!

Travelling with another person was a new experience for Dean.

Sure his family had gone on a few vacations that had had them straying out of state but the Winchesters tended to stay close to home. The hazard of having a mother who owned a bar and a dad who owned a scrapyard was neither of them could be closed for too long. None of them really minded though, the lack of distance hadn’t made the vacations less fun. 

However it did mean that all of Dean’s long road trips had been on his own from college all the way until he moved to accept his internship at Sandover. His family offered to help move his stuff but Dean had waved them off. He hadn’t had a lot of shit so why make his parents and sister trek around the country needlessly.

Driving by himself hadn’t been bad at all but Dean was quickly finding that travelling with someone, more specifically Cas, was so much better.

“There’s an exit coming up soon, are you ready for some lunch?” Cas asked. A glance to the right showed that he was scrolling through his phone. His bare feet were kicked up on the dash of his car and Dean was shocked to find he didn’t care. It was nice to see how comfortable Cas was in his car. “I’m starting to get a bit hungry.”

Dean’s stomach rumbled now that it was reminded that food did indeed exist. He turned on his turn signal and started to make his way towards the far lane to catch the next exit. “Yeah, I could go for something.”

They ended up stopping at a small sandwich place. Dean had found it on his shamefully infrequent journeys back home and he tried to stop whenever he could, the food was that fantastic. Cas wandered off to the bathrooms while Dean ordered their food at the counter and snagged a table.

“Since we’ll probably be at your parents’ house this afternoon, are there any topics or things I should avoid?” Cas asked once he’d sat down with Dean and began eating. He took a sip of his drink before wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “I’d like to make a good impression.”

Chuckling, Dean took a big bite of his sandwich, swooning internally at how delicious it was. “Nah, my parents are pretty relaxed. They have their opinions but they don’t get pissed at you for having your own,” he said, voice muffled by his food. He paused for a second to swallow. “Though a little bit of friendly interrogation wouldn’t be off the table.”

Cas nodded. “I suppose that isn’t completely unreasonable. It’s natural for family to want to make sure your significant other is treating you well.”

“You treat me way the hell better than just well, Cas,” Dean said. “Between feeding me, making sure I sleep, and...the other things that my family definitely doesn’t need to know about, I think it’s safe to say you treat me pretty damn well.”

At the allusion to their bedroom activities, Cas’ eyes darkened slightly and a smug smile tugged at his lips. Cas took a leisurely sip of his iced tea before fixing Dean with a warm, just-on-this-side-of-heated gaze. “Of course I do,” he said low enough that even Dean could barely make out the words over the clatter of the restaurant, “my pet deserves the very best in life.”

Okay, now that just wasn’t fair. Breaking out the sex voice was totally not right when it was used in places where Dean couldn’t act on the flare of heat the went through his body at hearing it. Of course Cas knew this, judging by the evil smirk on his face.

Damn smug bastard. Just sitting there primly eating his sandwich.

“Not cool,” Dean muttered, pouting at Cas before turning his attention pointedly back to his beloved sandwich. “Totally not cool, Cas.”

Cas’ deep chuckle confirmed Dean’s opinion that there were no guilty feelings whatsoever on the other side of the table.

 

Dean was always surprised at how little things had changed whenever he came home.

The scrapyard sign at the end of the drive was still rundown with its rust and its peeling paint; apparently Mom hadn’t won the battle for an updated one yet but Dean figured she would eventually. The driveway was still as bumpy and rutted as ever, jolting him and Cas around the car, and there were still bits and bobs scattered over the one half of the porch. It was a lived in space that never failed to make Dean feel at ease. 

“So, this is it,” Dean said as he and Cas clambered out of the car, stretching their cramped muscles as they did. He looked over to see Cas reaching his arms high over his head as he took in their surroundings and his stomach flipped with nerves as his brain finally registered the sight of Cas being juxtaposed to his childhood home. “I know it doesn’t look like much--,” he began to say as a sudden fear of what Cas would think of his home’s less than elegant appearance but Cas cut him off.

“Dean, if the words that are about to come out of your mouth are anything even remotely close to an apology for the state of the home you grew up in,” Cas said with a gentle yet firm voice, walking around the hood of the car as he continued, “I will be forced to smack you upside the head.” Cas stopped in front of him and smiled. “I can already tell that this is a lovely home and you should be proud of it.”

Dean felt himself blushing under Cas’ intense scrutiny. Was he really that damn transparent? In an attempt to salvage a small part of his dignity, he huffed an indignant breath and inclined his head. “Actually, Mr. Smarty pants, I was going to say that the house is actually pretty damn kick ass. I mean, I did live in it for a long time so how could it not be?”

Cas rolled his eyes and stepped closer so he could slip his hands onto Dean’s hips. “Oh yes,” Cas said with a smile, sarcasm dripping from every word. “My apologies, I can see now that that was exactly what you were going to say.” Dean only had a second to feel smug before he jumped at the light swat to his ass. “You’re a dirty fibber, Dean Winchester but luckily for you I have just the thing for---”

“Dean?”

Both he and Cas froze as they realized they were indeed still standing in the open right in front of Dean’s parents’ house and Dean almost whimpered with how fast the blood that had been about to travel south of the border changed direction at the sound of his mom’s voice. He looked over to see his mom standing in the front doorway. She turned back and yelled back into the house.

“Bobby! Dean’s here,” Dean’s mom shouted before hurrying down the porch steps. Cas pulled away from Dean and, in a clear demonstration of his nerves, faded back a few steps to give Dean and his mom some space. Space that Ellen Winchester used to sweep her son into a big hug. “It’s so damn good to see you, Dean.”

Logically Dean knew that it had been a long time since he’d been home but it was until that moment, wrapped in a tight hug from his mom, that this fact really set in. His eyes stung a teeny bit as he buried his face firmly into his mom’s shoulder and breathed in that strange mix of clean and smokey that always clung to her jacket after a morning cleaning up the bar but that was only because he was tired from driving.

No other reason at all.

“Now who is this nice looking gentleman over here?” Ellen asked, pulling away from Dean, peering around him to where Cas stood unobtrusively, turned slightly toward the house in an attempt to give mother and son some privacy. “You must be Castiel.”

To Cas’ credit, not a speck of his nervousness showed on his face as stepped forward though Dean could see just a touch of the suave bastard he’d dubbed Business Cas. “That would be me and you must be Dean’s mother, Ellen,” Cas said with polite smile. He reached out a hand to Dean’s mother and was immediately dragged into a hug that Dean knew for a fact he hadn’t been expecting thought he really should have been.

Dean had warned him that his mother was a hugger.

“It’s great to meet you, Castiel,” Ellen said once she’d finally released Cas from her grip. Dean couldn’t help but grin at how confused and off kilter Cas was, it made him look too damn adorable in Dean’s opinion. His smug attitude disappeared however as his mom kept talking. “It’s been too damn long since Dean brought anyone home to meet us. I was starting to think he was ashamed of us.”

"Mom,” Dean whined, “you know that's not what it is...work keeps me so busy."

His mom’s familiar unimpressed expression had just started to take over her face but its progress was halted by a snort. A very distinct and also familiar noise. Dean watched as his mom looked over at Cas and smiled. There was a brief second wherein an unknown force sparked between his boyfriend and his mom and in that moment, Dean knew he was doomed.

“You not a fan of that place either, huh Castiel?" Ellen asked with a grin. She reached out and patted Cas heartily on the shoulder before wrapping an arm around him. "Oh, you're gonna fit in just fine around here"

Dean watched as his mother walked past him so she could put an arm around Cas' shoulders and lead him into the house

"Now, how about Dean brings in you boys’ things and I'll find out where that husband of mine wandered off to..."

Cas cast a helpless look over his shoulder at Dean as he was dragged up the steps and Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the bewildered expression on his face. Yeah, his mom was a force of nature and it was a rare person that could resist being swept up in her wake. Not that anyone really wanted to once they got to know her. Dean kinda wished he was the one being dragging into the house if only to spare Cas but it was probably for the best that Mom wasn't focused on him. 

Having his mom's entire focus on him would make it extremely hard to keep certain facts about his professional life under wraps because while Cas' ability to sniff out anything odd with Dean was spooky as hell, his mom's capabilities went beyond bordering on the supernatural.

If she even got a quarter of a whiff of something off...

By the time Dean had the bags gathered up and staggered into the house, Cas had been planted at the kitchen table while his mom puttered around the kitchen. Food was starting to populate the table despite it being too early for supper but that was expected. His mom was a feeder. If people came into her house and declined to eat, lord help them.

“Now with all this yoga stuff, does that mean that you don't eat meat?" Ellen asked as she pulled boxes of this and that from the cupboard. She abandoned the cupboard and walked over to rummage around in the freezer. "Because I've got some pork cooking in the crockpot for sandwiches but I'm pretty sure I could whip up some veggie soup..."

"Oh no, meat is fine." Cas reassured her quickly. He waved his hands in the air as if to dispel the idea physically. "I do eat meat." He chuckled and smiled over at Dean. "It must be a shared family curiosity. Dean asked me a similar question on our first date."

Dean rolled his eyes. Oh, it was time for embarrassing stories already? Just peachy. He couldn't wait for his sister to meet Cas. His ass was going to be burnt to a crisp with all the roasting he was going to get.

"It was a legitimate question." Dean argued, dropping the bags at his feet with a thud. 

He was just about to walk over and either give Cas a kiss on the head or a cuff at the ear for being a little shit but a tutting noise from his mom's direction stopped him.

"I know you weren't brought up in a barn, Dean." She narrowed her eyes at him, though there was a smile on her lips, before turning her gaze accusingly at the bags he'd just dropped. She pointed upwards. "You know where the guest room is. Go on, get those bags put away."

"Yes, Dean. Be a good boy and do as your mother says." Cas said and Dean could practically feel the laughter that Cas was probably choking on. Dean, unable to retaliate just yet, merely glared at him.

Oh, Cas was gonna hear about that one later. It was one thing to deliberately tease him in a restaurant about their kinky stuff but come on, a man's childhood home was sacred. 

Even if Dean had been planning on at least making out a little in the room that used to be his many a year ago.

Dean huffed a sigh. "Fine, fine, I'm going." His mouth curled into a pout, even though his chest was warm. Being home was doing wonders for his mood. "I'll just leave you two to your tea and crumpets."

And with that, Dean made as graceful an exit as one could make when burdened with two people's worth of clothes and toiletries. The laughter that chased him up the stairs made his cheeks flush but at the same time, he couldn't help smiling. His mom loved Cas already (just as he’d figured she would); he could handle some ribbing in exchange for that.

 

The bags put away, Dean plodded down the stairs. As he was entering the kitchen his ears registered another two voices that hadn't been there when he left. His dad was now seated across from Cas at the kitchen table while his sister stood off to the side.

"Well, it's good to meet you, son. Dean hasn't told us too much about you but then that idjit is alway so damn busy working,” Bobby said. Dean couldn’t tell if his dad was unaware he was in the room or if he just didn’t care though it was most likely the latter. “I'm just happy he made time in his busy schedule to date."

Dean rolled his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the onslaught. It was his own fault really. It was a well known fact that his family despised how much Sandover made him work, especially when it meant they didn’t get to see him, so when they got their chance to take shots at this issue, they didn’t waste them.

"Yes, I work a lot,” he said, interrupting the start of another henpecking about his work habits. Dean leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “I get it, the whole world gets it, but I do do things that don’t involve work."

"Watching TV and eating microwave meals doesn't count,” his sister pointed out.

Jo walked over and patted him on the shoulder patronizingly. Dean, feeling a sudden wave of affection for his (more than slightly) annoying sister, looped an arm around her shoulders and brought her in for a hug. He didn't miss the soft expression on Cas' face that he managed to glimpse over Jo's shoulder.

Cas was such a sap.

"And I don't think you have any room to talk,” Dean countered as Jo squawked and accused him of strangling her. “You spend every weekend at flea markets hawking your shit. That's not a life either."

After skillfully slipping out of his hold, Jo socked him on the shoulder before tossing her hair over her hair haughtily. 

"I'll have you know, I do a very brisk business at the flea markets. It’s where all the knife enthusiasts congregate for some reason," she argued as she walked over to snag the last open kitchen chair next to Cas since his mom was in the chair next to his dad. "And besides, I actually have made some friends at the markets. It's like hanging out with my buds for a day. With a side of making boo-koo bucks."

Cas’ head tilted and he looked at Jo, intrigued. "You sell knives? That's very interesting."

Jo preened a bit as she answered, toying with her hair nonchalantly as she did. "Actually, I make them. Didn't Dean tell you?"

Dean hadn't and he kicked himself for it. He was definitely going to be given the look of disappointment for this. Though in Dean's defense, ever since they'd hit the kink switch in their relationship, he and Cas had been spending most of their limited free time together in situations that were definitely _not_ the kinds of situations where a guy chatted about what his sibling did for a living. He did feel a twinge of guilt though; he really should’ve given Cas the bare minimum of background on his family before their visit. 

One more thing to make up for he figured and added it to the mental list.

"No,” Cas admitted before he smiled charmingly. “But then we've only been seeing each other for a few months and while we've talked about families, we haven't really gotten too in depth on the matter. I have to ask though, how did you get into making knives?"

 

God bless Cas and his natural affinity for small talk, Dean thought later. Jo's eager explanation of how she ended up as a bladesmith took up a good chunk of the afternoon. By the time Jo was starting to wrap up her story, his mom was putting dinner together. This combined with the fact his sister’s enthusiasm for her work made her chatty like nobody’s business meant Dean was able to avoid talking and thus accidentally either doing something dumb or letting something slip to set off his mom's radar.

Jo had moved on to explaining the ins and outs of working a booth at a fair when his mom sent Dean out to the shop to retrieve his dad who had wandered off. He found his dad buried under the hood of another junker in the workshop.

"Hey, Mom says to get your ass inside and wash up. Dinner's almost ready."

There was a clunk followed by a grunt and a cloud of growled curses. Dean snorted with laughter. He was definitely going to catch hell for sneaking up on his old man. Though to be honest, he hadn’t planned on it.

His dad emerged from under the hood grumbling. "Goddammit, did working in that office this long make you forget that you announce yourself when you're walking up to someone with their head in a car's guts?"

His dad rubbed irritatedly at what Dean knew from experience (both personal and from being around his dad for his entire life) was going to be a pretty spectacular bruise by later that night. His brows were furrowed grumpily but Dean noted the fond light in his eyes.

"Yeah they had a class my first day 'office sneaking 101'" Dean joked, wanting to keep the mood light.

"Smartass." Bobby grumbled as he tried to wipe off the worse of the grease from his hands before walking over to slather some industrial hand cleaner on them. There were several beats of silence before he spoke again with an air of feigned disinterest that didn’t fool either of them. "So, that boy of yours. Is he treating you right?"

Dean huffed a quiet laugh, picking up a wrench and played with it so he didn’t have to look at his dad who was using the task of cleaning his hands as a similar tactic. "Cas treats me the best," Dean answered without hesitation. A pull of hot guilt stabbed at him until he added, "better than I deserve to be honest."

His dad did look at him then and Dean got that feeling that he was being scrutinized. 

"So what are you working on now?" Dean asked, changing gears in hopes of putting his dad off whatever he was possibly noticing. While he wasn't as worried about his dad as he was his mom, Dean knew his parents kept no secrets so if Dad noticed something, Mom was bound to find out. He walked over and stuck his head under the hood, whistling lowly at the sorry state of the engine. "This thing has seen better days."

Either not noticing Dean's distraction tactic or choosing to let it go, his dad walked over and stuck his head in too. 

"Yeah, one of the neighbor boys is going to college and this was all he could afford,” Dad said, scowling at the car as if it offended him which on a professional level it probably did. “He brought it over for a quick tune-up and once I saw this shit, didn't feel right sending him out with it what's going on under the hood so I'm fixing it up a bit for him."

Dean wanted to laugh at how much gruffer his dad's voice got the longer he talked. It was a defense mechanism that Dean had seen many times, the more 'squishy' a conversation got, the more unaffected his dad tried to act. 

They chatted over the car for a few more minutes, his dad casually (but not so casually) slipping in questions about Cas. They were the usual ones Dean had expected were coming his way. Was he being treated well? Was he a good man? Did he go to school? What’s he do for a living?

Dean answered the questions dutifully, only omitting anything that might give away his and Cas’ unique relationship dynamic or his shitty work situation. "Oh and you'll love this,” Dean said as he cleaned up his own hands which had gotten dirty from poking around in the neighbor boy’s car. “He's got his own yoga teacher/massage therapist business going on."

"Hmm...that's good,” Bobby mused thoughtfully before adding, “as long as he's got some business sense on his shoulders." His dad hummed as he reached up to shut the hood on the junker. "I didn't talk to him long but he seemed like a good kid."

"He's the freaking best," Dean easily confirmed again because it was the honest to god truth.

His dad grunted, a sound that Dean had come to associate with satisfaction. "Good, good. I just want you to be happy, boy."

They were walking back towards the house and Dean didn't bother to respond to this. He and Dad weren't ever really big on talking about emotion type things (something that would probably drive Cas nuts if he knew) so Dean didn't feel the need to confirm what his dad obviously could already tell was true.

"About time you two finally got your asses in here." Ellen scolded before their feet even crossed the threshold into the kitchen. She was obviously putting the finishing touches on the table. Cas was helping carry bowls over to her. "I was just about to send Jo out for you."

"No way I'm gonna miss supper," Dean pointed out. He looked over at Cas and grinned. "Nothing wrong with your cooking, Cas but Mom makes some of the best food ever and I've been dying for some."

Cas set down his bowl of macaroni salad. "I think I can understand that." Cas said with a chuckle and a smile. "Everything smells and looks so delicious."

His mom smiled and tried to act like she wasn’t flattered by the compliment. "Well let's not just stand here smelling and looking at the food, everybody sit down and dig in."

Nobody argued with her and not too long later, they were all leaning back with contented sighs and patting overly full bellies. Dean's stomach was actually bordering on painful but he didn't care; that food had been so fucking good. It had been worth it.

Being in the food comas that they were, not to mention all the driving they'd done, his parents didn't protest when he and Cas excused themselves an hour or so after supper to go to bed.

Jo stretched before rolling her shoulders and standing. "Yeah, I better get going too. I have some stuff I need to finish up today and tomorrow for the market on Sunday." She paused in putting on her jacket and looked between Dean and Cas. "You two should come along on Sunday. You can show Cas the market."

At the mention of a market, Cas’ sleepiness fell to wayside and he perked up against Dean’s side. "That does sound like fun." His face brightened and he up at Dean. Like Dean would say no to a market or something.

Dean squeezed the arm around his waist and grinned. "That actually sounds great. We'd love to tag along with you."

Jo smiled and gave each of them a hug before leaving. She'd given Cas her number "for sibling teasing privileges, of course" and told them she'd text them sometime tomorrow with the details.

Dean and Cas walked up the stairs, leaving his parents sitting in the living room watching TV.

Before they were halfway up the stairs, his mom’s voice echoed from the living room. "I'll be making breakfast tomorrow morning. Do you want me to get you boys up?"

The tone of her voice had Dean suspecting that his mom was trying to see if it was going to be safe to open their door tomorrow morning and Dean wanted to roll his eyes. Seriously, he was not going to be getting frisky under the same roof with his parents. Why did everyone seem to think that was one of his goals this trip?

Rolling his eyes, Dean called back. "Yeah, you can but I bet you anything Cas'll be up right with you. He's a damn early bird."

"Oh good,” Ellen replied, delight in his voice. “He can help me cook and I can grill him for information. Does that sound good Castiel?"

"As long as you let me do the same," Cas said with a smirk and Dean forced down a groan. He was definitely going to regret letting his family and Cas be in the same state, wasn't he?

Dean tugged lightly on Cas’ arm and towed him up the stairs to avoid anymore ragging at his expense. He led them to his old room now turned guest room and pointed out where the bathroom was. While Cas changed into his pajamas and got ready for bed, Dean tugged the blankets loose. 

“So, what’s the verdict,” Dean asked as he crawled into bed after taking his turn in the bathroom. He shimmied over so that he was tucked up against Cas’ chest. “Is my family going to make you go screaming into the night?”

“Your family is perfectly nice,” Cas grumbled, wrapping his arm around Dean’s chest and nuzzling the back of his neck. The day was catching up with him just as much as it was Dean judging by the grouchy tone. “Now enough talking and more sleeping. I have to be up bright and early to interrogate your mother.”

Dean shook ever so slightly with silent laughter at grumpy tired Cas but he knew better than to poke the bear further which is why he ignored the nagging compulsion to check his phone. They’d agreed that he wouldn’t even think about work while they were here but that didn’t stop Dean’s fingers from itching to look at his notifications. Luckily for him it didn’t matter if he wanted to give in or not to since he started drifting off in Cas’ arms, getting closer to closer to sleep from one blink to the next until he finally conked out and was dead to the world.

And to the emails and texts that lit up his phone as he slept.

 

In hindsight, Dean should have figured his douche nozzle of a boss wouldn’t leave him alone on vacation.

He’d woken up Saturday morning (alone, just as he’d predicted) to find ten texts and seven emails all from Adler with demands for the Stevenson account. Dean had scrolled through them as he’d laid in bed, wanting to call the prick and tell him to knock it off, but he knew that wouldn’t help. Adler would just pull his trump card and force Dean to do what he wanted anyway and while the work itself wouldn’t bother Dean, it was the thought of disappointing Cas that stopped him.

So, he’d ultimately decided to ignore it.

At least this way Dean could continue to pretend that nothing was wrong and just maybe fool himself enough for the rest of the weekend so that he could enjoy himself. He’d also get the small satisfaction of knowing Adler wasn’t getting what he wanted. There would always be the drive home for him to brainstorm ideas on how to handle Adler’s temper when he got back.

 

This turned out to be a great strategy.

Saturday had been pretty close to the perfect day. After eating a freaking delicious breakfast courtesy of his mom and Cas, he and Cas had gone out for a walk around the property. He’d shown Cas the fort he and Jo had built out in the scrapyard when they were kids and then they’d gone and visited his dad in the shop. Dad’s shop wasn’t open on the weekends but he still worked on projects which was how Dean ended up elbows deep in the neighbor boy’s car.

“I never knew you were so multi-talented, Dean,” Cas’ voice sounded behind him. From the extremely open innuendo in his tone, Dean figured his dad still wasn’t back from scrounging for the part they needed.

Dean peeked over his shoulder and smirked, raising a brow. “Huh, I guess I’ll have to work a bit harder on letting you know about all my many _talents_ then.”

A quick slap to his ass was Cas’ response. Dean gasped and was just about to unearth himself from the car though whether to retaliate with a spank of his own or a smart ass response he wasn’t sure but then...

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t see that.”

A sharp burst of pain wracked Dean’s skull as the sound of his dad’s voice had his head ramming up into the hood of the car. “Son of a bitch!”

Hand pressed to his throbbing head, Dean turned around to see his dad looking at the two of them, holding the part in his hand. His expression was deliberately unimpressed but Dean could see amusement in his eyes. He was probably elated that he’d gotten Dean back for the other day.

Dean looked over to see Cas’ face was candy apple red and his mouth was moving as he tried to talk. Neither of them could think of a way to bullshit that his dad hadn’t seen what he’d obviously seen so they just stood there sheepishly. Eventually though, his dad took pity on them

“Calm down, you two,” Bobby said as he waved a hand. “You boys act like I don’t know what you get probably get up to. I was young once you know. Now stop playing grab ass and come help me with this, Dean.”

Cas paled ever so slightly as he glanced over at Dean who, oddly enough, felt the urge to laugh. He knew his dad had no idea what he and Cas got up to and it felt kinda good to be keeping a fun secret for once.

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” Dean called to his dad as he walked over to Cas who still looked extremely uncomfortable being in the same room as Dean’s dad now that he’d been caught red handed. Dean kissed him on the cheek and lowered his voice. “Why don’t you go and hang out with mom for while I help the old man with this? I’d bet she probably wouldn’t turn down a pair of extra hands or turn her nose up at any gossip about me you probably have.”

Cas smiled a grateful smile and took the offered out, disappearing out of the garage with a quick goodbye while Dean turned back and braced himself for the torture that awaited him as he joined his dad under the hood.

“So, I go out for a part and you turn into a teenager, is that it,” Bobby said, handing him a wrench.

Dean sighed. It was gonna be a long afternoon.

 

The teasing at being caught getting handsy in the garage lasted well through supper and even into breakfast the next morning. On the brightside, Cas seemed to have gotten over his initial mortification and was soon able to give as good as he got, a development that Dean knew would only add to Cas’ reputation with his parents.

Being able to take a joke was definitely a requisite in their family.

“So are you boys going to the market on your own or is Jo picking you up?” Ellen asked as they cleaned up the table from breakfast. 

“We’re meeting Jo there,” Dean supplied, scrubbing stubbornly at a frying pan. “She said we might as well wait to closer to when the flea market opens since setting up her booth isn’t all that exciting.”

“Plus we would have had to be there already,” Cas added from beside Dean where he was drying dishes. 

Dean’s mom walked over and plucked the dish rag from Dean’s hands; she glanced up at the clock hanging over the kitchen table. “Well, you boys better go get ready to go then,” she said as she nudged them aside. “It’s getting close to that time. I can finish up here.”

Cas attempted to protest but was shooed out of the kitchen all the same and in no time at all they were in the car, driving down the driveway.

 

The market was just a town over and soon they were slowly making their way through the admittance line and exchanging their money for a handstamp that said they’d paid. While Cas, face brightened with excitement, looked around at all the vendors, Dean texted Jo to find out where her booth was.

“Hey guys,” Jo said when they finally found her. She waved them over. “Was wondering when you’d get here.”

Her booth was squashed between a husband and wife selling antiques on one side and a carpenter who was selling furniture made out of refurbished wood on the other. Dean and Cas both marveled at her set up. Metal gleamed from almost every surface. The sizes of her daggers ranged from blades the size of machetes all the way down to daggers that could be hidden in a boot. 

“Your work is quite beautiful,” Cas said, his fingers trailing lightly over the case with Jo’s more decorative knives. “The craftsmanship is so delicate on these.”

“Yep and they’ll still cut the nuts off someone,” Jo said proudly. She walked over to where Cas was standing and waved a hand at the case. “These are some of my bestsellers. A lot of women like them since they’re so decorative you can hide them in plain sight if you want and nobody looks at them twice. Makes it easy to pull them if a creep shows up.”

Dean grinned, a wave of pride at his sister’s skill washing over him. “Awesome work,” he said. He wrapped an arm around Cas’ waist and looked around at the other booths. “So besides your’s, anything else in particular you think we should check out?”

Jo pursed her lips and tapped her fingers as she thought on this. She hummed. “Well, I mean the food vendors are always good and I think there are some people selling neat looking crystal things two rows over. Oh! And there’s that guy in the next row selling homemade sticky buns, he’s even selling some of the honey he made them with…”

Cas perked up at the mention of the magic word and Dean worked very hard not to laugh at how gopher-like the reaction looked. “There’s someone selling honey?” Cas asked eagerly. “I think I might go and find that one. Do you mind, Dean?”

“Nope, go right on ahead, babe,” Dean said with a chuckle. He kissed Cas’ temple and let him go. “I’m going to stay here with Jo until you get back. That way we can leave your honey here while we walk around.”

“Yeah, I won’t mind keeping an eye on it,” Jo offered.

Grinning, Cas turned and disappeared into the crowd on his quest for honey. Dean shook his head and sat down in Jo’s other chair but before he could open his mouth to start chatting with her, a couple stopped at the booth and started looking at one of the cases. Jo hopped up and began putting on her salesman spiel, leaving Dean to sit by himself. That was okay though, Dean didn’t mind waiting especially since he knew Jo was going to tease him for being sappy just now. 

Jo was opening the case to pull out a neat looking piece when Dean’s phone rang. The light airy atmosphere of the fair started to leech away as a feeling of foreboding took over. He looked down and his suspicions were confirmed.

Adler

Dean’s carefully constructed wall of ignoring crumbled as he looked down at the caller ID on his phone. The device vibrated and rang in his hand several times but silenced before he could make a decision. Relief washed over him only to be short lived when his phone started ringing again.

The fucker was probably going to keep calling until he got an answer. Dean almost turned his phone off in a fit of rebellion but stopped with the stomach sinking realization that Adler knew where he was on his vacation. What if that asshat decided to dig through his file for his parents’ phone number? What if he called and demanded to know why Dean wasn’t answering? That he needed Dean for an important work thing?

Everything would be ruined.

Before the phone could stop ringing a second time Dean, stomach twisting with a potent mix of rage and nerves, picked up the call. “Hello?”

“Don’t you ‘hello’ me, Winchester! Don’t you know how to work a phone anymore?”

Adler’s furious response wasn’t too much of a surprise but it was extremely loud so, rather than risk Jo accidentally overhearing anything, Dean stood up and walked away from the booth. Jo, still tied up with her customers, shot him a concerned look but Dean thought he did a good job of playing it off as a minor annoyance as he motioned back at her. He retreated down the row of vendors until he found a break between two of them big enough for him to step into.

“What do you want?” Dean asked, his tone a bit shorter than someone in his situation probably should be using but his patience was getting remarkably low. 

Adler growled in his ear. “What I want is the files I’ve been emailing and texting you about for the past two days. I know you aren’t the brightest bulb in the pack but do I need to remind you the price of keeping me waiting?”

“I’m on vacation,” Dean pointed out in a last ditch effort. He knew he could probably access and send whatever files Adlern needed from his phone but he refused to break his promise to Cas. Not after all the other promises he was already breaking. “I didn’t bring my laptop with me.” 

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re on vacation, Winchester,” Adler sneered. Dean could picture the angry grimace on his face. “I need those files now or---” 

Even though Dean knew this was coming, he couldn’t stop the wave of frustrated rage that took over him. He ran a hand through his hair and paced back and forth in the small space in hopes that the movement would stop him from punching the wall of the booths on either side of him.

“Or what, you’ll fire all my direct reports, fire my assistant?” he asked hotly. The grip on his phone tightened and he had to force himself not to squeeze it any more. “You can’t keep going nuclear every time I hit a snag on your work.”

But Adler could and more importantly he _would_. 

As much as Dean wanted to tell Adler to shove the Stevenson account right up his flabby ass, the thought of Sarah being out a job because he couldn’t cut it stopped him. If it was only his own job a stake, he’d happily shut off his phone and take the fallout but he knew he couldn’t do that to Sarah or his team.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said finally. Dean stopped pacing and leaned his head against the wooden wall of the one booth. Exhaustion seeped immediately into every cell of his body as he caved. “You’ll have your damn files before the meeting.”

 

“I’d better.” Adler’s terse response was quickly followed by the silence of a phone being hung up.

Dean didn’t move other than to tap his phone against the side of his face.

Fuck.

He only had a few minutes to dwell on the return of his familiar feeling of stressful fatigue. It was all he could afford. He needed to come up with a way to stealthily get some work done from his phone without Cas or his family noticing. Dean supposed he could just lie and say he was playing a game on his phone but just the thought of to everyone’s faces left a bad taste in his mouth. 

Dean could do it now. He could wander off to another corner of the flea market, find a bench and quickly send the files from there. That way if Cas or Jo ask where he went, he could say he wandered off to look at the other parts of the market. It wouldn’t be a total lie since he would have to wander around to find a bench. It wasn’t the best plan but it was better than nothing.

Standing up straight, Dean turned to leave his hiding place. He looked down and started maneuvering his way to the files on his phone. It wasn’t until he noticed a shadow falling over the screen of the device that he noticed someone standing at the mouth of the small alleyway between the booths. He looked up and felt his heart stop beating. It was too busy falling into his stomach to function.

Cas stood in front of him with his arms crossed, outlined by the sunlight streaming in the small space which cast a shadow on his face. The shadow didn’t conceal the fact that Cas’ expression looked like a storm rolling in across the sky, all black clouds and stormy winds topped with a pair of lightning flash blue eyes.

Cas looked pointedly at Dean’s phone. Somewhere in the back of Dean’s mind where he wasn't currently panicking, Dean was vaguely surprised that the phone didn’t burst into flames under the intensity of Cas’ gaze in that moment.

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Dean looked up from the phone and met Cas’ eyes.

“I think we need to have a discussion, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Repeat after me: Everything is going to be okay
> 
> I know this is a terrible place to leave the chapter especially since, knowing me it will take a bit before the next chapter is up, but remember I too enjoy a happy ending so you gotta know that this isn't the end. Also, there will be Talking and Emotions next chapter.


	18. Which Jump-started Some Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! An update!

Dean was just starting wonder if the sparking tension-filled silence between them was only going build and build until one (or both) of them exploded when the muzzy blare of the market staff making an announcement broke the spell. They both jumped and looked up to see the loudspeaker pole above them.

Hysterical laughter tugged at Dean’s mouth. He wanted to let it out even if it made him look foolish, anything had to be better than this hot sick feeling in his stomach, but when he looked up Cas’ face squashed that plan.

All the anger and outrage had seeped out of Cas in the space of a breath. Instead of the imposing authoritarian figure he'd looked like mere second before, he now looked crumpled and tired. His shoulders slumped and his normally impeccable posture was bent.

"This isn't the time for this," Cas said. He rubbed at his face and Dean felt his ever present guilt, quiet until this moment, grow even larger until it loomed over him like the stands on either side of him, surrounding him in its dark hot shameful shadow. "Let's---Let's just pretend I didn't hear what I heard. At least, not until we're home. This is your time with your parents, I don't want to ruin that since it doesn't happen that often."

The "and now I know why" left unspoken but still heard nonetheless.

“Okay,” Dean managed to say, his voice barely a whisper.

Without a word Cas turned and walked away, leaving Dean to catch up to him.

 

And so then had begun the second (or was it the third? Dean wasn't sure how this counted towards his ultimate deception count) lie of the weekend.

They'd gone back to Jo's tent and put on the show. Acting for all the world like nothing whatsoever was wrong even though not a damn thing had been even remotely okay. Dean was an old hat at pretending and it turned out that Cas wasn't too shabby either. Of course Dean felt like all the guilt of his past few weeks was now multiplied by a million because now he shouldered the guilt of dragging Cas down with him. Cas, who'd wanted nothing more than to meet Dean's parents because they were important to Dean. Now Cas had to lie to Dean’s family to protect Dean secret.

How they'd managed to get the charade past his parents...Dean still wasn't quite sure. He'd thought his mom would sniff out the blatant deception the minute they'd walked through the door when they finally went home but apparently, while they were obviously headed for what Dean knew had to be the disastrous end of their relationship, he and Cas still worked together amazingly.

It was one of the things Dean was going to miss.

They managed to survive the rest of the visit and the trip home, as awkward and silent as it had been. It was like they'd been transferred back to even further before when they'd first met. They’d been reduced to two strangers on a bus, conversing and being overly polite and pointedly keeping to themselves. Dean could probably count the number of times they’d spoken to each other on one hand and each conversation had been related to the trip home, strictly business.

Dean was sure that the tension was now a permanent fixture in his car that no amount of cleaning would get rid of.

 

It wasn’t until they arrived at Cas’ place that they finally talked.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Dean said, the words bursting out of him as he placed Cas’ bag onto the floor. He wasn’t able to take it anymore. The anticipation had to be worse than the actual fight and he just wanted it over. Dean sat gingerly on the edge of the couch and awaited judgement.

Cas raised a challenging eyebrow and crossed his arms. “I don’t know, Dean. Do you? Do you want to talk about it?” Cas asked bitingly. The sharp anger was in his eyes again, making them practically glow. “Because I was under the impression that you wanted to keep everything to yourself. You seem to have been trying very very hard to do so.”

That hurt. Dean had been expecting it of course (and knew that he deserved it). That didn’t mean that it didn’t sting though and, despite having tried to prepare, Dean couldn’t come up with a response to such a blunt, honest statement.

Dean’s lack of answer seemed to knock some of the wind out of Cas’ sails and he slumped again before sitting down on the couch. He held a hand to his brow and rubbed agitatedly. “How long?” Cas asked, rubbing frustratedly at his hair before looking over at Dean. “How long has that disgusting weasel been doing this to you?”

At first Dean thought about only admitting to the cause of his recent fuck up. It would make things easier but he knew any more lying, even lies of omission, were not going to help the situation. He sighed. “Me doing Adler’s work? That’s been going on basically since I met you but,” Dean said, holding his hands up in defense at the renewal of Cas’ stormy expression. “I swear, I didn't find out about it until recently. Sarah found out about it.” Just thinking about that day had residual frustration bubbling up, forcing Dean to stand and pace. “I noticed she was acting strange and got it out of her and when I did--I went to confront the fucker but...he was smarter than me.” Dean stopped pacing and heaved a sigh. “He's been playing this game for a long time.”

“How can he do this?” Cas asked, sitting up right. Dean could see the outrage returning but was selfishly pleased it wasn’t pointed at him. For the moment anyway. “It's beyond unethical.”

Dean laughed, it was a bitter sound even to his own ears. “Because he knows that I won't endanger my employee's jobs. I just---I just can’t be the reason that they lose their jobs. They have families, homes, responsibilities…”

“And you don’t?” Cas countered. Dean found himself on the receiving end of a gimlet stare. “Your life is just as important as theirs. And Sandover isn’t the only company in the world, you all could get jobs at other companies that deserve your hard work.”

Shaking his head, Dean smiled sadly. “Adler has slimy friends in high places. He'd blacklist my employees and me in a second,” he explained not unkindly. Cas didn’t get it, not yet. “The world of big business is brutal and everybody gossips. All it would take is a few well placed rumors and me, and more importantly my employees who don't have a damn thing to do with this, would be ruined.”

Cas’s eyes narrowed and Dean could practically see the vendetta against big business forming between Cas’ ears. The image of Cas forming a rebellion against Sandover actually made him want to laugh. “Why you don't go higher up and report him?”

“I thought about it,” Dean admitted because, after considering punching Adler in his face, that had been one of his first thoughts. That is until he’d had a chance to think. “But...I know how this goes. Adler is a big fish. Big fish can get away with so so much. You don't understand.” Cas pursed his lips and Dean rushed to explain. “Management paid big money to get him on board with the company. There’s a reason recruitment agencies are a thing. And the higher ups aren't going to endanger their investment for me.”

Dean’s hope that laying out the facts for Cas would help calm things down but sadly, he was wrong.

“That's--that's a bunch of bullshit!”

Anger was oozing out of Cas’ every pore as he sat up right, his hands clenched on his thighs. Dean had a feeling if anyone even resembling a business man were to walk through the door, Cas would lay them out just on principle.

“That's business,” Dean said with a grim smile. “It's truly a bitch, isn't it?”

The room fell into silence for a few moments while Cas collected his thoughts. Dean used the time to memorize Cas’ features, considering he figured it was highly likely this would be the last time he’d get to see them.

He was oddly at peace with this fact. It was as if the weeks of constant guilt and the bone deep knowledge that his deception was going to be discovered had given him a chance to subconsciously prepare himself for this outcome. From the minute he’d decided to lie to Cas, he’d always known this was the likely endgame and maybe that was why he was so calm. Dean was still scared shitless of the actual moment when Cas would cut him loose but at least he figured he’d be able to accept it with a semblance of dignity. 

“Okay,” Cas said finally, looking marginally more serene. He turned to face Dean again. “So I guess I now understand a little more why you’ve been letting Adler treat you this way but that doesn't negate the fact that you have been lying to me about it.”

Dean’s acceptance over the inevitable didn’t extend to his guilt though.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said, looking down at the floor. He laced his fingers together and started fidgeting. “I don't know if it helps but, I didn't want to.”

“But you did.”

Yep, that still stung too.

“You looked me right in the eye and lied to me,” Cas continued, steel in his voice. Dean managed to look up since Cas deserved eye contact at the very least. “Constantly, about why you've been working so much and even about how much you have been working. Even after what happened when we first got together, you lied.”

And Cas was right. So freaking right it made Dean feel sick to his stomach. God, he really was the biggest fuckwad wasn’t he?

Unable to look at Cas without wanting to run like the coward he was, Dean bent forward and put his head into his hands. “I know. I'm a dirty fucking hypocrit,” he admitted, throwing himself onto Cas’ mercy. “It--I just, I thought it was the best option I had. I mean, if I had told you about what Adler had done and why I was letting it happen like I did just now, what would you have done? Be honest.”

In an instant Cas’ expression transformed from mere irritation and hurt to outright anger and fury again. “I would have gone right over to that evil place, given Adler a piece of my mind, and, maybe if I was still angry enough after the drive over, punched him in his face.”

Dean could see that this wasn't an exaggeration, Cas looked dead serious and Dean wouldn't have put it past him to do it. Just because Cas did yoga and believed in holistic health practices didn’t mean he was immune to the temptation of violence all together.

“Which is exactly why I didn't tell you,” Dean countered. “It's not that I was worried about you punching him, honestly I would love to see that. But it wouldn't have changed things, the only thing that would be different is that you would be getting your ass sued and when Adler sues someone, he goes for the jugular. You would lose everything you worked for, the studio, your massage practice, all of it, and I wasn't going to let that happen.”

Not for him. Dean refused to let Cas lose everything over him.

This seemed to placate Cas slightly. “Okay so I will admit, my temper probably would have gotten me in trouble in this scenario but you were still wrong to lie.”

Dean held up his hands. “And believe me, I know that. Lying to you has been making me sick to death. I haven't been able to look myself in the eye for weeks. And then you started taking care of me, making me dinner and doting on me and that just made me feel like the biggest fucking asshole on the planet.”

He slumped miserably against the couch. It felt kind of good to talk this out. Didn’t mean he felt good about being a lying prick or anything but Dean felt like he was getting out some of the toxic sludge that had been caking his insides every since this all had started.

In a surprising turn of events, Cas shifted so he was sitting next to Dean. Their thighs touched and Dean almost let his eyes close so he could focus on the warmth of Cas’ body but then Cas began to speak. “Well, I'm not going to lie to you,” he said and Dean perked up slightly as he noticed this phrase wasn’t being used as a dig at him. “The vengeful part of me thinks you earned that moniker but...the part of me that loves you is sorry you felt you had to be in that position.”

And with that Dean’s world tilted off its axis just a hair. 

His stomach twisted with the well known turbulence of nerves but he couldn’t not address the issue. Even if there was a sure chance he’d get an answer he didn’t want to hear, Dean needed to know.

“You uh--” Dean said before pausing to lick at his lips nervously. “You said ‘loves’, as in you know, the present tense.”

He didn’t actually as the question, didn’t think he needed to. Cas had to know that this was coming.

Once again, Cas surprised Dean by sighing and reaching out to grab his hand. “Dean, if you think that one misstep, and I'm not going to sugarcoat it, and this was a huge misstep, is enough to push me away, you're crazy.”

It was official. Dean must have fallen asleep in the car. This was obviously a dream and in a few moments Cas was going to wake him up and ask if he wanted a snack from the gas station or something. Because there was no way that Cas was going to not only mention loving Dean as, currently loved as part of the current state of affairs, but also admit that he planned to keep it that way.

Especially since this was the first time they’d ever actually discussed that particular issue.

“It's just, well, we've never you know, actually said it,” Dean said, trying to convey his confusion without accidentally appearing to argue the point.

Which was true. Dean knew for a fact that he loved Cas. Knew it like he knew his clients’ business before a meet up and the few yoga sequences he'd been able to master. 

And, at least until this trip, Dean had been fairly confident that he might not be the only one. 

True his self-doubt had constantly tried to convince him Cas was only there out some weird sense of obligation but in the few moments when he and Cas would be lying in bed, wrapped up in each other as they drifted off, Dean knew that that voice was a load of shit. He'd been hoping that he might be able to work up the courage to make it official but he'd also been secretly hoping Cas would go first. 

So in a way things had worked out.

He just hadn't seen the setting of Cas' ‘I love you’ as being in the middle of a fight coming though.

Cas seemed to consider this before nodding in acknowledgement. “I suppose we haven't but I guess if you can't say it when you're arguing, maybe you shouldn’t say it.” 

Okay, so that was definitely a new perspective Dean hadn’t heard before. Maybe it was a yoga thing.

“So you telling me that you love me in almost the same breath as telling me I fucked up by lying is a good thing?” Dean asked, wanting to make sure that he had this right. It was still highly likely this was all a crazy dream but on the off chance he’d just become the luckiest bastard in the world, he wanted to make sure he understood.

Dean waited anxiously as Cas appeared to contemplate the question. After an agonizing stretch, Cas nodded. “I think so. It's easy to say you love someone when everything is perfect but I think it shows solid dedication to say it when things aren't as great. Granted saying it for the first time during a fight probably isn’t the most romantic thing in the world but it doesn’t make it any less true.” Cas paused and grabbed Dean’s hands in his, fixing him with an intense gaze that Dean could feel burning through him. “And I do. I do love you Dean. I am beyond pissed that you have been lying to my face but considering our track record, maybe we should just call it even.”

“That's it? Just call it even like we're playing checkers and move on?” Another piece of evidence that Dean may be dreaming.

Cas grimaced slightly. “Okay, I guess that is putting it a bit too simply but yes. We've both screwed up, we're both sorry for what we did and...now we get to do better. The two of us, together.”

Dean couldn’t believe this is happening. He can't believe that even after he did such a horrible thing, that Cas can say they are going to be fine. He did finally believe this was real though. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined everything working out like this. Unable to fully process the confusing surge of emotions that hit him, Dean surged forward and hugged Cas before kissing him. He could actually feel tears of relief in his eyes. 

Cas wasn't going to leave him. Not only was Cas not going to leave him...Cas loved him...

“I love you too, you know” Dean said into Cas’ neck, his voice muffled. Probably a good thing considering how close to tearing up he was. “I know it probably doesn't seem like it considering the way I've been treating you but I do. I really do.”

“I know,” Cas replied softly, running his hands through Dean’s hair with one hand and stroking his back with the other. Dean wanted to melt right into him. “I know you do.”

Pulling back and wiping at the touch of dampness around his eyes, Dean cleared his throat so he could speak. “So...we're really going to be okay?”

He knew even before Cas said anything what the answer would be. It was written all over the softening of his eyes and the smile curling his lips ever so gently. “Yes. I think we are. I can't guarantee we won't mess up again but I think from here on out, all messes with be done together.”

Dean was pretty sure he'd be able to jump off a building and fly at this point. Sure he was terrified of both heights and flying but right now, he couldn’t care. His chest felt like it was literally expanding with the warmth that was building in it so it was either fly or maybe explode with the force of it. Either way it didn’t matter.

They were going to be okay.

Dean spent the night that night. They curled up in Cas’ bed and talked but not about anything important. They were both emotionally exhausted and they’d wordlessly agreed that anymore heavy conversations could wait. There would be time enough for that later.

Just like there would be time enough to deal with Adler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So funny story, over a month I slowly, agonizingly put together this chapter only to realize this morning it was nothing like what I wanted so I deleted it. The *whole* chapter and re-wrote it completely today. I like this one so much better. That other one was an abomination of sad.
> 
> I'm also not going to lie, guys. I've been having a really hard time writing lately. I don't know why, I just seem like I've been spinning my wheels on any story I write any more, regardless of what story, what fandom, etc. It doesn't help I think I have too many pots on the fandom stove and it's burning me out a bit but I'm going to keep pushing on (not enough to burn out though). I just want you guys to brace yourselves in the event it takes me another eon to update.

**Author's Note:**

> And there is chapter one. :)
> 
> I'm going to warn you all, this is a long haul fic. I know you're used to me and my tendency to hit the smut button almost immediately but I'm trying out this whole 'developing a story' thing. But be assured, there **will be** smut!


End file.
